NRLF 


It 

•I  REGIMENT 


BY 


STEPHEN       RANE 


LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF 
CALIFORNIA 
SANTA  CRUZ 


SANTA     CRUZ 


Gift  of 


Mrs.   Mary  Anne  Whipple 


H 
PC 

m 


SANTA     CRUZ 


THE  LITTLE  REGIMENT 

AND  OTHER  EPISODES  OF  THE   AMERICAN 
CIVIL  WAR 


Otfter  BooKs  by  Stepften  grane* 


The  Red  Badge  of  Courage* 

An  Episode  of  the  American  Civil  War.     (Four- 
teenth edition.)     I2mo.     Cloth,  $1.00. 

"  Never  before  have  we  had  the  seamy  side  of  glorious  war  so 
well  depicted." — Chicago  Evening  Post, 

"  Of  such  interest  that  no  one  having  begun  it  will  lay  it  aside 
until  the  end  is  reached." — Philadelphia" Ledger. 

"  We  have  had  many  stories  of  the  war;    this  stands  absolutely 
alone." — Boston  Transcript, 

"Has  no  parallel,  unless  it  be  Tolstoy's  'Sebastopol.'" — San 
Francisco  Chronicle. 

"A.  strong  book,  and  it  is  a  true  book;   true  to  life." — The 
Critic. 

"  Has  been  surpassed  by  few  writers  dealing  with  war." — New 
York  Mail  and  Express. 


Maggie:  A  Girl  of  the  Streets* 

(Fourth  edition.)     I2mo.     Cloth,  75  cents. 

"By  writing  '  Maggie'  Mr.  Crane  has  made  for  himself  a  per- 
manent place  in  literature."—  New  York  Mail  and  Express. 

"  Full  of  clever  descriptions.  .  .  .  Written  in  short,  terse 
sentences,  which  compel  the  imagination  rather  than  stimulate  it." 
— Boston  Herald. 

"A  powerful  portrayal." — New  York  Times. 


New  York:  D.  APPLETON  &  CO.,  72  Fifth  Avenue. 


Cbe  Qtflt  Regiment 

find  Other  episodes  of  tfte  American 


By 

Crane 


Huffier  of  tltt  Red  Badge  of  Eouraje,  and 


new  Vork 
D.  Hppleion  and  Gonipany 


COPYRIGHT,  1896, 
BY  D.  APPLETON  AND  COMPANY. 


Copyright,  1895,  1896,  by  Stephen  Crane. 


Ps 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

THE  LITTLE  REGIMENT I 

THREE  MIRACULOUS  SOLDIERS 45 

A  MYSTERY  OF  HEROISM IO6 

AN  INDIANA  CAMPAIGN 128 

A  GRAY  SLEEVE 15* 

THE  VETERAN 185 


THE   LITTLE   REGIMENT. 


I. 

THE  fog  made  the  clothes  of  the  men  of 
the  column  in  the  roadway  seem  of  a  lumi- 
nous quality.  It  imparted  to  the  heavy  in- 
fantry overcoats  a  new  colour,  a  kind  of  blue 
which  was  so  pale  that  a  regiment  might  have 
been  merely  a  long,  low  shadow  in  the  mist. 
However,  a  muttering,  one  part  grumble, 
three  parts  joke,  hovered  in  the  air  above  the 
thick  ranks,  and  blended  in  an  undertoned 
roar,  which  was  the  voice  of  the  column. 

The  town  on  the  southern  shore  of  the 
little  river  loomed  spectrally,  a  faint  etching 
upon  the  gray  cloud-masses  which  were  shift- 
ing with  oily  languor.  A  long  row  of  guns 
upon  the  northern  bank  had  been  pitiless  in 


2  THE   LITTLE   REGIMENT. 

their  hatred,  but  a  little  battered  belfry  could 
be  dimly  seen  still  pointing  with  invincible 
resolution  toward  the  heavens. 

The  enclouded  air  vibrated  with  noises 
made  by  hidden  colossal  things.  The  in- 
fantry tramplings,  the  heavy  rumbling  of  the 
artillery,  made  the  earth  speak  of  gigantic 
preparation.  Guns  on  distant  heights  thun- 
dered from  time  to  time  with  sudden,  nerv- 
ous roar,  as  if  unable  to  endure  in  silence  a 
knowledge  of  hostile  troops  massing,  other 
guns  going  to  position.  These  sounds,  near 
and  remote,  denned  an  immense  battle- 
ground, described  the  tremendous  width  of 
the  stage  of  the  prospective  drama.  The 
voices  of  the  guns,  slightly  casual,  unexcited 
in  their  challenges  and  warnings,  could  not 
destroy  the  unutterable  eloquence  of  the 
word  in  the  air,  a  meaning  of  impending 
struggle  which  made  the  breath  halt  at  the 
lips. 

The  column  in  the  roadway  was  ankle- 
deep  in  mud.  The  men  swore  piously  at 


THE  LITTLE   REGIMENT.  3 

the  rain  which  drizzled  upon  them,  com- 
pelling them  to  stand  always  very  erect 
in  fear  of  the  drops  that  would  sweep  in 
under  their  coat-collars.  The  fog  was  as 
cold  as  wet  cloths.  The  men  stuffed  their 
hands  deep  in  their  pockets,  and  huddled 
their  muskets  in  their  arms.  The  machin- 
ery of  orders  had  rooted  these  soldiers 
deeply  into  the  mud  precisely  as  almighty 
nature  roots  mullein  stalks. 

They  listened  and  speculated  when  a  tu- 
mult of  fighting  came  from  the  dim  town 
across  the  river.  When  the  noise  lulled  for 
a  time  they  resumed  their  descriptions  of 
the  mud  and  graphically  exaggerated  the 
number  of  hours  they  had  been  kept  wait- 
ing. The  general  commanding  their  divi- 
sion rode  along  the  ranks,  and  they  cheered 
admiringly,  affectionately,  crying  out  to  him 
gleeful  prophecies  of  the  coming  battle. 
Each  man  scanned  him  with  a  peculiarly 
keen  personal  interest,  and  afterward  spoke 
of  him  with  unquestioning  devotion  and 


4  THE  LITTLE  REGIMENT. 

confidence,   narrating-  anecdotes  which  were 
mainly  untrue. 

When  the  jokers  lifted  the  shrill  voices 
which  invariably  belonged  to  them,  fling- 
ing witticisms  at  their  comrades,  a  loud 
laugh  would  sweep  from  rank  to  rank,  and 
soldiers  who  had  not  heard  would  lean  for- 
ward and  demand  repetition.  When  were 
borne  past  them  some  wounded  men  with 
gray  and  blood-smeared  faces,  and  eyes 
that  rolled  in  that  helpless  beseeching  for 
assistance  from  the  sky  which  comes  with 
supreme  pain,  the  soldiers  in  the  mud 
watched  intently,  and  from  time  to  time 
asked  of  the  bearers  an  account  of  the 
affair.  Frequently  they  bragged  of  their 
corps,  their  division,  their  brigade,  their 
regiment.  Anon  they  referred  to  the  mud 
and  the  cold  drizzle.  Upon  this  threshold 
of  a  wild  scene  of  death  they,  in  short, 
defied  the  proportion  of  events  with  that 
splendour  of  heedlessness  which  belongs 
only  to  veterans. 


THE   LITTLE   REGIMENT. 


5 


"  Like  a  lot  of  wooden  soldiers,"  swore 
Billie  Dempster,  moving  his  feet  in  the 
thick  mass,  and  casting  a  vindictive  glance 
indefinitely  ;  "  standing  in  the  mud  for  a  hun- 
dred years." 

"  Oh,  shut  up ! "  murmured  his  brother 
Dan.  The  manner  of  his  words  implied 
that  this  fraternal  voice  near  him  was  an 
indescribable  bore. 

"  Why  should  I  shut  up  ? "  demanded 
Billie. 

"  Because  you're  a  fool,"  cried  Dan,  tak- 
ing no  time  to  debate  it ;  "  the  biggest  fool 
in  the  regiment." 

There  was  but  one  man  between  them, 
and  he  was  habituated.  These  insults  from 
brother  to  brother  had  swept  across  his 
chest,  flown  past  his  face,  many  times  dur- 
ing two  long  campaigns.  Upon  this  occa- 
sion he  simply  grinned  first  at  one,  then  at 
the  other. 

The  way  of  these  brothers  was  not  an 
unknown  topic  in  regimental  gossip.  They 


6  THE  LITTLE   REGIMENT. 

had  enlisted  simultaneously,  with  each  sneer- 
ing loudly  at  the  other  for  doing  it.  They 
left  their  little  town,  and  went  forward 
with  the  flag,  exchanging  protestations  of 
undying  suspicion.  In  the  camp  life  they 
so  openly  despised  each  other  that,  when 
entertaining  quarrels  were  lacking,  their 
companions  often  contrived  situations  cal- 
culated to  bring  forth  display  of  this  fra- 
ternal dislike. 

Both  were  large-limbed,  strong  young 
men,  and  often  fought  with  friends  in 
camp  unless  one  was  near  to  interfere  with 
the  other.  This  latter  happened  rather  fre- 
quently, because  Dan,  preposterously  will- 
ing for  any  manner  of  combat,  had  a  very 
great  horror  of  seeing  Billie  in  a  fight ; 
and  Billie,  almost  odiously  ready  himself, 
simply  refused  to  see  Dan  stripped  to  his 
I  shirt  and  with  his  fists  aloft.  This  sat 
queerly  upon  them,  and  made  them  the 
objects  of  plots. 

When    Dan    jumped    through    a  ring  of 


THE   LITTLE   REGIMENT.  7 

eager  soldiers  and  dragged  forth  his  raving 
brother  by  the  arm,  a  thing  often  pre- 
dicted would  almost  come  to  pass.  When 
Billie  performed  the  same  office  for  Dan, 
the  prediction  would  again  miss  fulfilment 
by  an  inch.  But  indeed  they  never  fought 
together,  although  they  were  perpetually 
upon  the  verge. 

They  expressed  longing  for  such  con- 
flict.  As  a  matter  of  truth,  they  had.  at 
one  time  made  full  arrangement  for  it,  but 
even  with  the  encouragement  and  interest 
of  half  of  the  regiment  they  somehow 
failed  to  achieve  collision. 

If  Dan  became  a  victim  of  police  duty, 
no  jeering  was  so  destructive  to  the  feel- 
ings as  Billie's  comment.  If  Billie  got  a 
call  to  appear  at  the  headquarters,  none 
would  so  genially  prophesy  his  complete 
undoing  as  Dan.  Small  misfortunes  to  one 
were,  in  truth,  invariably  greeted  with  hi- 
larity by  the  other,  who  seemed  to  see  in 
them  great  re-enforcement  of  his  opinion. 


8  THE  LITTLE  REGIMENT. 

As  soldiers,  they  expressed  each  for  each 
a  scorn  intense  and  blasting1.  After  a  cer- 
tain battle,  Billie  was  promoted  to  corporal. 
When  Dan  was  told  of  it,  he  seemed  smitten 
dumb  with  astonishment  and  patriotic  indig- 
nation. He  stared  in  silence,  while  the  dark 
blood  rushed  to  Billie's  forehead,  and  he 
shifted  his  weight  from  foot  to  foot.  Dan  at 
last  found  his  tongue,  and  said  :  "  Well,  I'm 
durned  ! "  If  he  had  heard  that  an  army  mule 
had  been  appointed  to  the  post  of  corps  com- 
mander, his  tone  could  not  have  had  more 
derision  in  it.  Afterward,  he  adopted  a  fervid 
insubordination,  an  almost  religious  reluctance 
to  obey  the  new  corporal's  orders,  which 
came  near  to  developing  the  desired  strife. 

It  is  here  finally  to  be  recorded  also  that 
Dan,  most  ferociously  profane  in  speech,  very 
rarely  swore  in  the  presence  of  his  brother; 
and  that  Billie,  whose  oaths  came  from  his 
lips  with  the  grace  of  falling  pebbles,  was  sel- 
dom known  to  express  himself  in  this  manner 
when  near  his  brother  Dan. 


THE  LITTLE   REGIMENT.  g 

At  last  the  afternoon  contained  a  sugges- 
tion of  evening.  Metallic  cries  rang  suddenly 
from  end  to  end  of  the  column.  They  inspired 
at  once  a  quick,  business-like  adjustment.  The 
long  thing  stirred  in  the  mud.  The  men  had 
hushed,  and  were  looking  across  the  river. 
A  moment  later  the  shadowy  mass  of  pale 
blue  figures  was  moving  steadily  toward  the 
stream.  There  could  be  heard  from  the 
town  a  clash  of  swift  fighting  and  cheering. 
The  noise  of  the  shooting  coming  through  the 
heavy  air  had  its  sharpness  taken  from  it,  and 
sounded  in  thuds. 

There  was  a  halt  upon  the  bank  above  the 
pontoons.  When  the  column  went  winding 
down  the  incline,  and  streamed  out  upon  the 
bridge,  the  fog  had  faded  to  a  great  degree, 
and  in  the  clearer  dusk  the  guns  on  a  distant 
ridge  were  enabled  to  perceive  the  crossing. 
The  long  whirling  outcries  of  the  shells  came 
into  the  air  above  the  men.  An  occasional 
solid  shot  struck  the  surface  of  the  river,  and 
dashed  into  view  a  sudden  vertical  jet.  The 


10  THE   LITTLE  REGIMENT. 

distance  was  subtly  illuminated  by  the  light- 
ning from  the  deep-booming  guns.  One  by 
one  the  batteries  on  the  northern  shore 
aroused,  the  innumerable  guns  bellowing  in 
angry  oration  at  the  distant  ridge.  The  roll- 
ing thunder  crashed  and  reverberated  as  a 
wild  surf  sounds  on  a  still  night,  and  to  this 
music  the  column  marched  across  the  pon- 
toons. 

The  waters  of  the  grim  river  curled  away 
in  a  smile  from  the  ends  of  the  great  boats, 
and  slid  swiftly  beneath  the  planking.  The 
dark,  riddled  walls  of  the  town  upreared 
before  the  troops,  and  from  a  region  hidden 
by  these  hammered  and  tumbled  houses  came 
incessantly  the  yells  and  firings  of  a  prolonged 
and  close  skirmish. 

When  Dan  had  called  his  brother  a  fool, 
his  voice  had  been  so  decisive,  so  brightly 
assured,  that  many  men  had  laughed,  consid- 
ering it  to  be  great  humour  under  the  circum- 
stances. The  incident  happened  to  rankle 
deep  in  Billie.  It  was  not  any  strange  thing 


THE  LITTLE  REGIMENT.  Ir 

that  his  brother  had  called  him  a  fool.  In 
fact,  he  often  called  him  a  fool  with  exactly 
the  same  amount  of  cheerful  and  prompt  con- 
viction, and  before  large  audiences,  too.  Billie 
wondered  in  his  own  mind  why  he  took  such 
profound  offence  in  this  case ;  but,  at  any  rate, 
as  he  slid  down  the  bank  and  on  to  the  bridge 
with  his  regiment,  he  was  searching  his  knowl- 
edge for  something  that  would  pierce  Dan's 
blithesome  spirit.  But  he  could  contrive 
nothing  at  this  time,  and  his  impotency  made 
the  glance  which  he  was  once  able  to  give  his 
brother  still  more  malignant. 

The  guns  far  and  near  were  roaring  a  fear- 
ful and  grand  introduction  for  this  column 
which  was  marching  upon  the  stage  of  death. 
Billie  felt  it,  but  only  in  a  numb  way.  His 
heart  was  cased  in  that  curious  dissonant 
metal  which  covers  a  man's  emotions  at  such 
times.  The  terrible  voices  from  the  hills  told 
him  that  in  this  wide  conflict  his  life  was  an 
insignificant  fact,  and  that  his  death  would  be 
an  insignificant  fact.  They  portended  the 


12  THE  LITTLE   REGIMENT. 

whirlwind  to  which  he  would  be  as  necessary 
as  a  butterfly's  waved  wing.  The  solemnity, 
the  sadness  of  it  came  near  enough  to  make 
him  wonder  why  he  was  neither  solemn  nor 
sad.  When  his  mind  vaguely  adjusted  events 
according  to  their  importance  to  him,  it  ap- 
peared that  the  uppermost  thing  was  the  fact 
that  upon  the  eve  of  battle,  and  before  many 
comrades,  his  brother  had  called  him  a  fool. 

Dan  was  in  a  particularly  happy  mood. 
"  Hurray  !  Look  at  'em  shoot,"  he  said,  when 
the  long  witches'  croon  of  the  shells  came  into 
the  air.  It  enraged  Billie  when  he  felt  the  lit- 
tle thorn  in  him,  and  saw  at  the  same  time 
that  his  brother  had  completely  forgotten  it. 

The  column  went  from  the  bridge  into 
more  mud.  At  this  southern  end  there  was  a 
chaos  of  hoarse  directions  and  commands. 
Darkness  was  coming  upon  the  earth,  and 
regiments  were  being  hurried  up  the  slippery 
bank.  As  Billie  floundered  in  the  black  mud, 
amid  the  swearing,  sliding  crowd,  he  suddenly 
resolved  that,  in  the  absence  of  other  means  of 


THE  LITTLE   REGIMENT.  ^ 

hurting  Dan,  he  would  avoid  looking  at  him, 
refrain  from  speaking  to  him,  pay  absolutely 
no  heed  to  his  existence ;  and  this  done  skil- 
fully would,  he  imagined,  soon  reduce  his 
brother  to  a  poignant  sensitiveness. 

At  the  top  of  the  bank  the  column  again 
halted  and  rearranged  itself,  as  a  man  after 
a  climb  rearranges  his  clothing.  Presently 
the  great  steel-backed  brigade,  an  infinitely 
graceful  thing  in  the  rhythm  and  ease  of  its 
veteran  movement,  swung  up  a  little  narrow, 
slanting  street. 

Evening  had  come  so  swiftly  that  the 
fighting  on  the  remote  borders  of  the  town 
was  indicated  by  thin  flashes  of  flame.  Some 
building  was  on  fire,  and  its  reflection  upon 
the  clouds  was  an  oval  of  delicate  pink. 


II. 

ALL  demeanour  of  rural  serenity  had  been 
wrenched  violently  from  the  little  town  by 
the  guns  and  by  the  waves  of  men  which 


!4  THE  LITTLE   REGIMENT. 

had  surged  through  it.  The  hand  of  war 
laid  upon  this  village  had  in  an  instant 
changed  it  to  a  thing  of  remnants.  It  resem- 
bled the  place  of  a  monstrous  shaking  of  the 
earth  itself.  The  windows,  now  mere  un- 
sightly holes,  made  the  tumbled  and  black- 
ened dwellings  seem  skeletons.  Doors  lay 
splintered  to  fragments.  Chimneys  had  flung 
their  bricks  everywhere.  The  artillery  fire 
had  not  neglected  the  rows  of  gentle  shade- 
trees  which  had  lined  the  streets.  Branches 
and  heavy  trunks  cluttered  the  mud  in  drift- 
wood tangles,  while  a  few  shattered  forms 
had  contrived  to  remain  dejectedly,  mourn- 
fully upright.  They  expressed  an  innocence, 
a  helplessness,  which  perforce  created  a  pity 
for  their  happening  into  this  cauldron  of  bat- 
tle. Furthermore,  there  was  under  foot  a 
vast  collection  of  odd  things  reminiscent  of 
the  charge,  the  fight,  the  retreat.  There 
were  boxes  and  barrels  filled  with  earth,  be- 
hind which  riflemen  had  lain  snugly,  and  in 
these  little  trenches  wrere  the  dead  in  blue 


THE   LITTLE   REGIMENT.  !5 

with  the  dead  in  gray,  the  poses  eloquent  of 
the  struggles  for  possession  of  the  town  until 
the  history  of  the  whole  conflict  was  written 
plainly  in  the  streets. 

And  yet  the  spirit  of  this  little  city,  its 
quaint  individuality,  poised  in  the  air  above 
the  ruins,  defying  the  guns,  the  sweeping 
volleys  ;  holding  in  contempt  those  avaricious 
blazes  which  had  attacked  many  dwellings. 
The  hard  earthen  sidewalks  proclaimed  the 
games  that  had  been  played  there  during 
long  lazy  days,  in  the  careful  shadows  of  the 
trees.  "  General  Merchandise,"  in  faint  let- 
ters upon  a  long  board,  had  to  be  read  with 
a  slanted  glance,  for  the  sign  dangled  by  one 
end  ;  but  the  porch  of  the  old  store  was  a 
palpable  legend  of  wide-hatted  men,  smoking. 

This  subtle  essence,  this  soul  of  the  life 
that  had  been,  brushed  like  invisible  wings 
the  thoughts  of  the  men  in  the  swift  columns 
that  came  up  from  the  river. 

In  the  darkness  a  loud  and  endless  hum- 
ming arose  from  the  great  blue  crowds  bi- 


16  THE   LITTLE   REGIMENT. 

vouacked  in  the  streets.  From  time  to  time 
a  sharp  spatter  of  firing  from  far  picket  lines 
entered  this  bass  chorus.  The  smell  from  the 
smouldering  ruins  floated  on  the  cold  night 
breeze. 

Dan,  seated  ruefully  upon  the  doorstep  of 
a  shot-pierced  house,  was  proclaiming  the 
campaign  badly  managed.  Orders  had  been 
issued  forbidding  camp-fires. 

Suddenly  he  ceased  his  oration,  and  scan- 
ning the  group  of  his  comrades,  said : 
"Where's  Billie?  Do  you  know?" 

"Gone  on  picket." 

"Get  out!  Has  he?"  said  Dan.  "No 
business  to  go  on  picket.  Why  don't  some 
of  them  other  corporals  take  their  turn  ? " 

A  bearded  private  was  smoking  his  pipe 
of  confiscated  tobacco,  seated  comfortably 
upon  a  horse-hair  trunk  which  he  had  dragged 
from  the  house.  He  observed  :  "  Was  his 
turn." 

"  No  such  thing,"  cried  Dan.  He  and  the 
man  on  the  horse-hair  trunk  held  discussion 


THE  LITTLE  REGIMENT.  Iy 

in  which  Dan  stoutly  maintained  that  if  his 
brother  had  been  sent  on  picket  it  was  an  in- 
justice. He  ceased  his  argument  when  an- 
other soldier,  upon  whose  arms  could  faintly 
be  seen  the  two  stripes  of  a  corporal,  entered 
the  circle.  "  Humph,"  said  Dan,  "  where  you 
been?" 

The  corporal  made  no  answer.  Pres- 
ently Dan  said  :  "  Billie,  where  you  been  ?  " 

His  brother  did  not  seem  to  hear  these 
inquiries.  He  glanced  at  the  house  which 
towered  above  them,  and  remarked  casually 
to  the  man  on  the  horse-hair  trunk :  "  Funny, 
ain't  it?  After  the  pelting  this  town  got, 
you'd  think  there  wouldn't  be  one  brick  left 
on  another." 

"  Oh,"  said  Dan,  glowering  at  his  brother's 
back.  "Getting  mighty  smart,  ain't  you?" 

The  absence  of  camp-fires  allowed  the 
evening  to  make  apparent  its  quality  of  faint 
silver  light  in  which  the  blue  clothes  of  the 
throng  became  black,  and  the  faces  became 
white  expanses,  void  of  expression.  There 


!§  THE   LITTLE   REGIMENT. 

was  considerable  excitement  a  short  distance 
from  the  group  around  the  doorstep.  A 
soldier  had  chanced  upon  a  hoop-skirt,  and 
arrayed  in  it  he  was  performing  a  dance 
amid  the  applause  of  his  companions.  Billie 
and  a  greater  part  of  the  men  immediately 
poured  over  there  to  witness  the  exhibi- 
tion. 

"What's  the  matter  with  Billie?"  de- 
manded Dan  of  the  man  upon  the  horse- 
hair trunk. 

"How  do  I  know?"  rejoined  the  other 
in  mild  resentment.  He  arose  and  walked 
away.  When  he  returned  he  said  briefly,  in 
a  weather-wise  tone,  that  it  would  rain  dur- 
ing the  night. 

Dan  took  a  seat  upon  one  end  of  the  horse- 
hair trunk.  He  was  facing  the  crowd  around 
the  dancer,  which  in  its  hilarity  swung  this 
way  and  that  way.  At  times  he  imagined 
that  he  could  recognise  his  brother's  face. 

He  and  the  man  on  the  other  end  of  the 
trunk  thoughtfully  talked  of  the  army's  posi- 


THE  LITTLE  REGIMENT.  jg 

tion.  To  their  minds,  infantry  and  artillery 
were  in  a  most  precarious  jumble  in  the 
streets  of  the  town;  but  they  did  not  grow 
nervous  over  it,  for  they  were  used  to  having 
the  army  appear  in  a  precarious  jumble  to 
their  minds.  They  had  learned  to  accept  such 
puzzling  situations  as  a  consequence  of  their 
position  in  the  ranks,  and  were  now  usually 
in  possession  of  a  simple  but  perfectly  im- 
movable faith_that  somebody  understood  the 
jumble.  Even  if  they  had  been  convinced 
that  the  army  was  a  headless  monster,  they 
would  merely  have  nodded  with  the  veteran's 
singular  cynicism.  It  was  none  of  their  busi- 
ness as  soldiers.  Their  duty  was  to  grab 
sleep  and  food  when  occasion  permitted,  and 
cheerfully  fight  wherever  their  feet  were 
planted  until  more  orders  came.  This  was  a 
task  sufficiently  absorbing. 

They  spoke  of  other  corps,  and  this  talk 
being  confidential,  their  voices  dropped  to 
tones  of  awe.  "  The  Ninth  "— • "  The  First  "— 
"The  Fifth"— "The  Sixth"— "The  Third" 


2O  THE  LITTLE  REGIMENT. 

— the  simple  numerals  rang  with  eloquence, 
each  having  a  meaning  which  was  to  float 
through  many  years  as  no  intangible  arith- 
metical mist,  but  as  pregnant  with  individu- 
ality as  the  names  of  cities. 

Of  their  own  corps  they  spoke  with  a 
deep  veneration,  an  idolatry,  a  supreme  con- 
fidence which  apparently  would  not  blanch  to 
see  it  match  against  everything. 

It  was  as  if  their  respect  for  other  corps 
was  due  partly  to  a  wonder  that  organizations 
not  blessed  with  their  own  famous  numeral 
could  take  such  an  interest  in  war.  They 
could  prove  that  their  division  was  the  best 
in  the  corps,  and  that  their  brigade  was  the 
best  in  the  division.  And  their  regiment — it 
was  plain  that  no  fortune  of  life  was  equal  to 
the  chance  which  caused  a  man  to  be  born,  so 
to  speak,  into  this  command,  the  keystone 
of  the  defending  arch. 

At  times  Dan  covered  with  insults  the 
character  of  a  vague,  unnamed  general  to 
whose  petulance  and  busy-body  spirit  he 


THE  LITTLE  REGIMENT.  2I 

ascribed    the  order  which    made  hot  coffee 
impossible. 

Dan  said  that  victory  was  certain  in  the 
coming  battle.  The  other  man  seemed  rather 
dubious.  He  remarked  upon  the  fortified  line 
of  hills,  which  had  impressed  him  even  from 
the  other  side  of  the  river.  "  Shucks,"  said 
Dan.  "  Why,  we — "  He  pictured  a  splendid 
overflowing  of  these  hills  by  the  sea  of  men 
in  blue.  During  the  period  of  this  conversa- 
tion Dan's  glance  searched  the  merry  throng 
about  the  dancer.  Above  the  babble  of 
voices  in  the  street  a  far-away  thunder  could 
sometimes  be  heard — evidently  from  the  very 
edge  of  the  horizon — the  boom-boom  of  rest- 
less guns. 

III. 

ULTIMATELY  the  night  deepened  to  the 
tone  of  black  velvet.  The  outlines  of  the  fire- 
less  camp  were  like  the  faint  drawings  upon 
ancient  tapestry.  The  glint  of  a  rifle,  the 
shine  of  a  button,  might  have  been  of  threads 


22  THE   LITTLE   REGIMENT. 

of  silver  and  gold  sewn  upon  the  fabric  of  the 
night.  There  was  little  presented  to  the 
vision,  but  to  a  sense  more  subtle  there  was 
discernible  in  the  atmosphere  something  like 
a  pulse ;  a  mystic  beating  which  would  have 
told  a  stranger  of  the  presence  of  a  giant 
thing — the  slumbering  mass  of  regiments  and 
batteries. 

With  fires  forbidden,  the  floor  of  a  dry  old 
kitchen  was  thought  to  be  a  good  exchange 
for  the  cold  earth  of  December,  even  if  a  shell 
had  exploded  in  it  and  knocked  it  so  out  of 
shape  that  when  a  man  lay  curled  in  his 
blanket  his  last  waking  thought  was  likely  to 
be  of  the  wall  that  bellied  out  above  him  as 
if  strongly  anxious  to  topple  upon  the  score 
of  soldiers. 

Billie  looked  at  the  bricks  ever  about  to 
descend  in  a  shower  upon  his  face,  listened 
to  the  industrious  pickets  plying  their  rifles 
on  the  border  of  the  town,  imagined  some 
measure  of  the  din  of  the  coming  battle, 
thought  of  Dan  and  Dan's  chagrin,  and  roll- 


THE  LITTLE  REGIMENT.  23 

ing  over  in  his  blanket  went  to  sleep  with 
satisfaction. 

At  an  unknown  hour  he  was  aroused  by 
the  creaking  of  boards.  Lifting  himself  upon 
his  elbow,  he  saw  a  sergeant  prowling  among 
the  sleeping  forms.  The  sergeant  carried  a 
candle  in  an  old  brass  candle-stick.  He  would 
have  resembled  some  old  farmer  on  an  unusual 
midnight  tour  if  it  were  not  for  the  significance 
of  his  gleaming  buttons  and  striped  sleeves- 

Billie  blinked  stupidly  at  the  light  until 
his  mind  returned  from  the  journeys  of 
slumber.  The  sergeant  stooped  among  the 
unconscious  soldiers,  holding  the  candle  close, 
and  peering  into  each  face. 

"  Hello,  Haines,"  said  Billie.     "  Relief  ? " 

"Hello,  Billie,"  said  the  sergeant  "Spe- 
cial duty." 

"Dan  got  to  go?" 

"  Jameson,  Hunter,  McCormack,  D.  Demp- 
ster. Yes.  Where  is  he?" 

"  Over  there  by  the  winder,"  said  Billie, 
gesturing.  "What  is  it  for,  Haines?" 


24  THE  LITTLE   REGIMENT. 

"  You  don't  think  I  know,  do  you  ? "  de- 
manded the  sergeant.  He  began  to  pipe 
sharply  but  cheerily  at  men  upon  the  floor. 
"  Come,  Mac,  get  up  here.  Here's  a  special 
for  you.  Wake  up,  Jameson.  Come  along, 
Dannie,  me  boy." 

Each  man  at  once  took  this  call  to  duty 
as  a  personal  affront.  They  pulled  them- 
selves out  of  their  blankets,  rubbed  their 
eyes,  and  swore  at  whoever  was  respon- 
sible. "  Them's  orders,"  cried  the  sergeant. 
"Come!  Get  out  of  here."  An  undetailed 
head  with  dishevelled  hair  thrust  out  from 
a  blanket,  and  a  sleepy  voice  said :  "  Shut 
up,  Haines,  and  go  home." 

When  the  detail  clanked  out  of  the 
kitchen,  all  but  one  of  the  remaining  men 
seemed  to  be  again  asleep.  Billie,  leaning 
on  his  elbow,  was  gazing  into  darkness. 
When  the  footsteps  died  to  silence,  he  curled 
himself  into  his  blanket. 

At  the  first  cool  lavender  lights  of  day- 
break he  aroused  again,  and  scanned  his  re- 


THE  LITTLE   REGIMENT.  25 

cumbent  companions.     Seeing  a  wakeful  one 
he  asked:  "Is  Dan  back  yet?" 

The  man  said  :  "  Hain't  seen  'im." 
Billie  put  both  hands  behind  his  head, 
and  scowled  into  the  air.  "  Can't  see  the 
use  of  these  cussed  details  in  the  night- 
time," he  muttered  in  his  most  unreason- 
able tones.  "  Darn  nuisances.  Why  can't 
they  —  "  He  grumbled  at  length  and  graph- 
ically. 

When  Dan  entered  with  the  squad,  how- 

ever, Billie  was  convincingly  asleep. 

'rvv^Vi  ,j 


IV. 

THE  regiment  trotted  in  double  time 
along  the  street,  and  the  colonel  seemed  to 
quarrel  over  the  right  of  way  with  many 
artillery  officers.  Batteries  were  waiting  in 
the  mud,  and  the  men  of  them,  exasperated 
by  the  bustle  of  this  ambitious  infantry, 
shook  their  fists  from  saddle  and  caisson, 
exchanging  all  manner  of  taunts  and  jests. 


26  THE  LITTLE  REGIMENT. 

The  slanted  guns  continued  to  look  reflec- 
tively at  the  ground. 

On  the  outskirts  of  the  crumbled  town  a 
fringe  of  blue  figures  were  firing  into  the 
fog.  The  regiment  swung  out  into  skirmish 
lines,  and  the  fringe  of  blue  figures  departed, 
turning  their  backs  and  going  joyfully  around 
the  flank. 

The  bullets  began  a  low  moan  off  toward 
a  ridge  which  loomed  faintly  in  the  heavy 
mist.  When  the  swift  crescendo  had  reached 
its  climax,  the  missiles  zipped  just  overhead, 
as  if  piercing  an  invisible  curtain.  A  battery 
on  the  hill  was  crashing  with  such  tumult 
that  it  was  as  if  the  guns  had  quarrelled  and 
had  fallen  pell-mell  and  snarling  upon  each 
other.  The  shells  howled  on  their  journey 
toward  the  town.  From  short  range  distance 
there  came  a  spatter  of  musketry,  sweeping 
along  an  invisible  line  and  making  faint  sheets 
of  orange  light. 

Some  in  the  new  skirmish  lines  were  be- 
ginning to  fire  at  various  shadows  discerned 


THE  LITTLE  REGIMENT.  27 

in  the  vapour,  forms  of  men  suddenly  re- 
vealed by  some  humour  of  the  laggard  masses 
of  clouds.  The  crackle  of  musketry  began 
to  dominate  the  purring  of  the  hostile  bul- 
lets. Dan,  in  the  front  rank,  held  his  rifle 
poised,  and  looked  into  the  fog  keenly,  coldly, 
with  the  air  of  a  sportsman.  His  nerves 
were  so  steady  that  it  was  as  if  they  had 
been  drawn  from  his  body,  leaving  him 
merely  a  muscular  machine  ;  but  his  numb 
heart  was  somehow  beating  to  the  pealing 
march  of  the  fight. 

The  waving  skirmish  line  went  backward 
and  forward,  ran  this  way  and  that  way. 
Men  got  lost  in  the  fog,  and  men  were  found 
again.  Once  they  got  too  close  to  the  for- 
midable ridge,  and  the  thing  burst  out  as  if 
repulsing  a  general  attack.  Once  another 
blue  regiment  was  apprehended  on  the  very 
edge  of  firing  into  them.  Once  a  friendly 
battery  began  an  elaborate  and  scientific 
process  of  extermination.  Always  as  busy 
as  brokers,  the  men  slid  here  and  there  over 

3 


28  THE  LITTLE  REGIMENT. 

the  plain,  fighting-  their  foes,  escaping  from 
their  friends,  leaving  a  history  of  many 
movements  in  the  wet  yellow  turf,  cursing 
the  atmosphere,  blazing  away  every  time  they 
could  identify  the  enemy. 

In  one  mystic  changing  of  the  fog,  as  if 
the  fingers  of  spirits  were  drawing  aside  these 
draperies,  a  small  group  of  the  gray  skir- 
mishers, silent,  statuesque,  were  suddenly  dis- 
closed to  Dan  and  those  about  him.  So  vivid 
and  near  were  they  that  there  was  something 
uncanny  in  the  revelation. 

There  might  have  been  a  second  of  mutual 
staring.  Then  each  rifle  in  each  group  was  at 
the  shoulder.  As  Dan's  glance  flashed  along 
the  barrel  of  his  weapon,  the  figure  of  a  man 
suddenly  loomed  as  if  the  musket  had  been  a 
telescope.  The  short  black  beard,  the  slouch 
hat,  the  pose  of  the  man  as  he  sighted  to 
shoot,  made  a  quick  picture  in  Dan's  mind. 
The  same  moment,  it  would  seem,  he  pulled 
his  own  trigger,  and  the  man,  smitten, 
lurched  forward,  while  his  exploding  rifle 


THE   LITTLE  REGIMENT.  2g 

made  a  slanting  crimson  streak  in  the  air,  and 
the  slouch  hat  fell  before  the  body.  The  bil- 
lows of  the  fog,  governed  by  singular  im- 
pulses, rolled  between. 

"  You  got  that  feller  sure  enough,"  said  a 
comrade  to  Dan.  Dan  looked  at  him  absent- 
mindedly. 

V. 

WHEN  the  next  morning  calmly  displayed 
another  fog,  the  men  of  the  regiment  ex- 
changed eloquent  comments ;  but  they  did 
not  abuse  it  at  length,  because  the  streets  of 
the  town  now  contained  enough  galloping 
aides  to  make  three  troops  of  cavalry,  and 
they  knew  that  they  had  come  to  the  verge  of 
the  great  fight. 

Dan  conversed  with  the  man  who  had  once 
possessed  a  horse-hair  trunk ;  but  they  did  not 
mention  the  line  of  hills  which  had  furnished 
them  in  more  careless  moments  with  an  agree- 
able topic.  They  avoided  it  now  as  con- 
demned men  do  the  subject  of  death,  and  yet 


go  THE  LITTLE  REGIMENT. 

the  thought  of  it  stayed  in  their  eyes  as  they 
looked  at  each  other  and  talked  gravely  of 
other  things. 

The  expectant  regiment  heaved  a  long 
sigh  of  relief  when  the  sharp  call :  "  Fall  in," 
repeated  indefinitely,  arose  in  the  streets.  It 
was  inevitable  that  a  bloody  battle  was  to  be 
fought,  and  they  wanted  to  get  it  off  their 
minds.  They  were,  however,  doomed  again 
to  spend  a  long  period  planted  firmly  in  the 
mud.  They  craned  their  necks,  and  won- 
dered where  some  of  the  other  regiments 
were  going. 

At  last  the  mists  rolled  carelessly  away. 
Nature  made  at  this  time  all  provisions  to  en- 
able foes  to  see  each  other,  and  immediately 
the  roar  of  guns  resounded  from  every  hill. 
The  endless  cracking  of  the  skirmishers 
swelled  to  rolling  crashes  of  musketry.  Shells 
screamed  with  panther-like  noises  at  the 
houses.  Dan  looked  at  the  man  of  the  horse- 
hair trunk,  and  the  man  said  :  "  Well,  here 
she  comes ! " 


THE  LITTLE  REGIMENT.  3! 

The  tenor  voices  of  younger  officers  and 
the  deep  and  hoarse  voices  of  the  older  ones 
rang  in  the  streets.  These  cries  pricked  like 
spurs.  The  masses  of  men  vibrated  from  the 
suddenness  with  which  they  were  plunged 
into  the  situation  of  troops  about  to  fight. 
That  the  orders  were  long-expected  did  not 
concern  the  emotion. 

Simultaneous  movement  was  imparted  to 
all  these  thick  bodies  of  men  and  horses  that 
lay  in  the  town.  Regiment  after  regiment 
swung  rapidly  into  the  streets  that  faced  the 
sinister  ridge. 

This  exodus  was  theatrical.  The  little  \ 
sober-hued  village  had  been  like  the  cloak 
which  disguises  the  king  of  drama.  It  was 
now  put  aside,  and  an  army,  splendid  thing 
of  steel  and  blue,  stood  forth  in  the  sun- 
light. 

Even  the  soldiers  in  the  heavy  columns 
drew  deep  breaths  at  the  sight,  more  majestic 
than  they  had  dreamed.  The  heights  of  the 
enemy's  position  were  crowded  with  men 


32  THE   LITTLE   REGIMENT. 

who  resembled  people  come  to  witness  some 
mighty  pageant.  But  as  the  column  moved 
steadily  to  their  positions,  the  guns,  matter-of- 
fact  warriors,  doubled  their  number,  and 
shells  burst  with  red  thrilling  tumult  on  the 
crowded  plain.  One  came  into  the  ranks  of 
the  regiment,  and  after  the  smoke  and  the 
wrath  of  it  had  faded,  leaving  motionless  fig- 
ures, everyone  stormed  according  to  the 
limits  of  his  vocabulary,  for  veterans  detest 
being  killed  when  they  are  not  busy. 

The  regiment  sometimes  looked  sideways 
at  its  brigade  companions  composed  of  men 
who  had  never  been  in  battle ;  but  no  frozen 
blood  could  withstand  the  heat  of  the  splen- 
dour of  this  army  before  the  eyes  on  the  plain, 
these  lines  so  long  that  the  flanks  were  little 
streaks,  this  mass  of  men  of  one  intention. 
The  recruits  carried  themselves  heedlessly. 
At  the  rear  was  an  idle  battery,  and  three  ar- 
tillery men  in  a  foolish  row  on  a  caisson 
nudged  each  other  and  grinned  at  the  re- 
cruits. "  You'll  catch  it  pretty  soon,"  they 


THE   LITTLE   REGIMENT.  33 

called  out.  They  were  impersonally  gleeful, 
as  if  they  themselves  were  not  also  likely  to 
catch  it  pretty  soon.  But  with  this  picture  of 
an  army  in  their  hearts,  the  new  men  perhaps 
felt  the  devotion  which  the  drops  may  feel  for 
the  wave  ;  they  were  of  its  power  and  glory ; 
they  smiled  jauntily  at  the  foolish  row  of  gun- 
ners, and  told  them  to  go  to  blazes. 

The  column  trotted  across  some  little 
bridges,  and  spread  quickly  into  lines  of  bat- 
tle. Before  them  was  a  bit  of  plain,  and  back 
of  the  plain  was  the  ridge.  There  was  no 
time  left  for  considerations.  The  men  were 
staring  at  the  plain,  mightily  wondering  how 
it  would  feel  to  be  out  there,  when  a  brigade 
in  advance  yelled  and  charged.  The  hill  was 
all  gray  smoke  and  fire-points. 

That  fierce  elation  in  the  terrors  of  war, 
catching  a  man's  heart  and  making  it  burn 
with  such  ardour  that  he  becomes  capable  of 
dying,  flashed  in  the  faces  of  the  men  like  col- 
oured lights,  and  made  them  resemble  leashed 
animals,  eager,  ferocious,  daunting  at  nothing. 


34  THE   LITTLE   REGIMENT. 

The  line  was  really  in  its  first  leap  before  the 
wild,  hoarse  crying  of  the  orders. 

The  greed  for  close  quarters  which  is  the 
emotion  ol  a  bayonet  charge,  came  then  into 
the  minds  of  the  men  and  developed  until  it 
was  a  madness.  The  field,  with  its  faded 
grass  of  a  Southern  winter,  seemed  to  this 
fury  miles  in  width. 

High,  slow-moving  masses  of  smoke,  with 
an  odour  of  burning  cotton,  engulfed  the  line 
until  the  men  might  have  been  swimmers. 
Before  them  the  ridge,  the  shore  of  this 
gray  sea,  was  outlined,  crossed,  and  re- 
crossed  by  sheets  of  flame.  The  howl  of  the 
battle  arose  to  the  noise  of  innumerable  wind 
demons. 

The  line,  galloping,  scrambling,  plunging 
like  a  herd  of  wounded  horses,  went  over  a 
field  that  was  sown  with  corpses,  the  records 
of  other  charges. 

Directly  in  front  of  the  black-faced, 
whooping  Dan,  carousing  in  this  onward 
sweep  like  a  new  kind  of  fiend,  a  wounded 


THE   LITTLE   REGIMENT.  35 

man  appeared,  raising  his  shattered  body,  and 
staring  at  this  rush  of  men  down  upon  him. 
It  seemed  to  occur  to  him  that  he  was  to  be 
trampled  ;  he  made  a  desperate,  piteous  effort 
to  escape ;  then  finally  huddled  in  a  waiting 
heap.  Dan  and  the  soldier  near  him  widened 
the  interval  between  them  without  looking 
down,  without  appearing  to  heed  the 
wounded  man.  This  little  clump  of  blue 
seemed  to  reel  past  them  as  boulders  reel 
past  a  train. 

Bursting  through  a  smoke-wave,  the  scam- 
pering, unformed  bunches  came  upon  the 
wreck  of  the  brigade  that  had  preceded  them, 
a  floundering  mass  stopped  afar  from  the  hill 
by  the  swirling  volleys. 

It  was  as  if  a  necromancer  had  suddenly 
shown  them  a  picture  of  the  fate  which 
awaited  them ;  but  the  line  with  muscular 
spasm  hurled  itself  over  this  wreckage  and  on- 
ward, until  men  were  stumbling  amid  the  relics 
of  other  assaults,  the  point  where  the  fire  from 
the  ridge  consumed. 


36  THE  LITTLE   REGIMENT. 

The  men,  panting,  perspiring,  with  crazed 
faces,  tried  to  push  against  it;  but  it  was 
as  if  they  had  come  to  a  wall.  The  wave 
halted,  shuddered  in  an  agony  from  the  quick 
struggle  of  its  two  desires,  then  toppled,  and 
broke  into  a  fragmentary  thing  which  has  no 
name. 

Veterans  could  now  at  last  be  distin- 
guished from  recruits.  The  new  regiments 
were  instantly  gone,  lost,  scattered,  as  if  they 
never  had  been.  But  the  sweeping  failure  of 
the  charge,  the  battle,  could  not  make  the 
veterans  forget  their  business.  With  a  last 
throe,  the  band  of  maniacs  drew  itself  up 
and  blazed  a  volley  at  the  hill,  insignificant 
to  those  iron  intrenchments,  but  nevertheless 
expressing  that  singular  final  despair  which 
enables  men  coolly  to  defy  the  walls  of  a  city 
of  death. 

After  this  episode  the  men  renamed  their 
command.  They  called  it  the  Little  Regi- 
ment. 


THE   LITTLE  REGIMENT. 


37 


VI. 

"  I  SEEN  Dan  shoot  a  feller  yesterday.  Yes 
sir.  I'm  sure  it  was  him  that  done  it.  And 
maybe  he  thinks  about  that  feller  now,  and 
wonders  if  he  tumbled  down  just  about  the 
same  way.  Them  things  come  up  in  a  man's 
mind." 

Bivouac  fires  upon  the  sidewalks,  in  the 
streets,  in  the  yards,  threw  high  their  waver- 
ing reflections,  which  examined,  like  slim,  red 
fingers,  the  dingy,  scarred  walls  and  the  piles 
of  tumbled  brick.  The  droning  of  voices 
again  arose  from  great  blue  crowds. 

The  odour  of  frying  bacon,  the  fragrance 
from  countless  little  coffee-pails  floated  among 
the  ruins.  The  rifles,  stacked  in  the  shadows, 
emitted  flashes  of  steely  light.  Wherever  a 
a  flag  lay  horizontally  from  one  stack  to  an- 
other was  the  bed  of  an  eagle  which  had  led 
men  into  the  mystic  smoke. 

The  men  about  a  particular  fire  were  en- 
gaged in  holding  in  check  their  jovial  spirits. 


38  THE  LITTLE  REGIMENT. 

They  moved  whispering  around  the  blaze, 
although  they  looked  at  it  with  a  certain  fine 
contentment,  like  labourers  after  a  day's  hard 
work. 

There  was  one  who  sat  apart.  They  did 
not  address  him  save  in  tones  suddenly 
changed.  They  did  not  regard  him  directly, 
but  always  in  little  sidelong  glances. 

At  last  a  soldier  from  a  distant  fire  came 
into  this  circle  of  light.  He  studied  for  a 
time  the  man  who  sat  apart.  Then  he  hesi- 
tatingly stepped  closer,  and  said :  "  Got  any 
news,  Dan  ? " 

"No,"  said  Dan. 

The  new-comer  shifted  his  feet.  He 
looked  at  the  fire,  at  the  sky,  at  the  other 
men,  at  Dan.  His  face  expressed  a  curious 
despair ;  his  tongue  was  plainly  in  rebellion. 
Finally,  however,  he  contrived  to  say :  "  Well, 
there's  some  chance  yet,  Dan.  Lots  of  the 
wounded  are  still  lying  out  there,  you  know. 
There's  some  chance  yet." 

"Yes,"  said  Dan. 


THE   LITTLE   REGIMENT.  39 

The  soldier  shifted  his  feet  again,  and 
looked  miserably  into  the  air.  After  another 
struggle  he  said  :  "  Well,  there's  some  chance 
yet,  Dan."  He  moved  hastily  away. 

One  of  the  men  of  the  squad,  perhaps 
encouraged  by  this  example,  now  approached 
the  still  figure.  "  No  news  yet,  hey  ?  "  he  said, 
after  coughing  behind  his  hand. 

"No,"  said  Dan. 

"  Well,"  said  the  man,  "  I've  been  thinking 
of  how  he  was  fretting  about  you  the  night 
you  went  on  special  duty.  You  recollect? 
Well,  sir,  I  was  surprised.  He  couldn't  say 
enough  about  it.  I  swan,  I  don't  believe  he 
slep'  a  wink  after  you  left,  but  just  lay  awake 
cussing  special  duty  and  worrying.  I  was 
surprised.  But  there  he  lay  cussing.  He " 

Dan  made  a  curious  sound,  as  if  a  stone 
had  wedged  in  his  throat.  He  said :  "  Shut 
up,  will  you  ?  " 

Afterward  the  men  would  not  allow  this 
moody  contemplation  of  the  fire  to  be  inter- 
rupted. 


40  THE  LITTLE   REGIMENT. 

"  Oh,  let  him  alone,  can't  you  ?  " 

"  Come  away  from  there,  Casey  !  " 

"Say,  can't  you  leave  him  be?" 

They    moved    with    reverence   about   the 

immovable    figure,    with   its    countenance    of 

mask-like  invulnerability. 


VII. 

AFTER  the  red  round  eye  of  the  sun  had 
stared  long  at  the  little  plain  and  its  burden, 
darkness,  a  sable  mercy,  came  heavily  upon 
it,  and  the  wan  hands  of  the  dead  were  no 
longer  seen  in  strange  frozen  gestures. 

The  heights  in  front  of  the  plain  shone 
with  tiny  camp-fires,  and  from  the  town  in 
the  rear,  small  shimmerings  ascended  from 
the  blazes  of  the  bivouac.  The  plain  was  a 
black  expanse  upon  which,  from  time  to  time, 
dots  of  light,  lanterns,  floated  slowly  here 
and  there.  These  fields  were  long  steeped 
in  grim  mystery. 

Suddenly,  upon  one  dark  spot,  there  was 


THE   LITTLE   REGIMENT.  ^r 

a  resurrection.  A  strange  thing  had  been 
groaning  there,  prostrate.  Then  it  suddenly 
dragged  itself  to  a  sitting  posture,  and  be- 
came a  man. 

The  man  stared  stupidly  for  a  moment  at 
the  lights  on  the  hill,  then  turned  and  con- 
templated the  faint  colouring  over  the  town. 
For  some  moments  he  remained  thus,  star- 
ing with  dull  eyes,  his  face  unemotional, 
wooden. 

Finally  he  looked  around  him  at  the 
corpses  dimly  to  be  seen.  No  change 
flashed  into  his  face  upon  viewing  these 
men.  They  seemed  to  suggest  merely  that 
his  information  concerning  himself  was  not 
too  complete.  He  ran  his  fingers  over  his 
arms  and  chest,  bearing  always  the  air  of 
an  idiot  upon  a  bench  at  an  almshouse 
door. 

Finding  no  wound  in  his  arms  nor  in  his 
chest,  he  raised  his  hand  to  his  head,  and 
the  fingers  came  away  with  some  dark 
liquid  upon  them.  Holding  these  fingers 


42  THE   LITTLE   REGIMENT. 

close  to  his  eyes,  he  scanned  them  in  the 
same  stupid  fashion,  while  his  body  gently 
swayed. 

The  soldier  rolled  his  eyes  again  toward 
the  town.  When  he  arose,  his  clothing 
peeled  from  the  frozen  ground  like  wet 
paper.  Hearing  the  sound  of  it,  he  seemed 
to  see  reason  for  deliberation.  He  paused 
and  looked  at  the  ground,  then  at  his 
trousers,  then  at  the  ground. 

Finally  he  went  slowly  off  toward  the 
faint  reflection,  holding  his  hands  palm  out- 
ward before  him,  and  walking  in  the  manner 
of  a  blind  man. 

VIII. 

THE  immovable  Dan  again  sat  unad- 
dressed  in  the  midst  of  comrades,  who  did 
not  joke  aloud.  The  dampness  of  the  usual 
morning  fog  seemed  to  make  the  little  camp- 
fires  furious. 

Suddenly  a  cry  arose  in  the  streets,  a 
shout  of  amazement  and  delight.  The  men 


THE   LITTLE   REGIMENT. 


43 


making  breakfast  at  the  fire  looked  up 
quickly.  They  broke  forth  in  clamorous 
exclamation:  "Well!  Of  all  things!  Dan! 
Dan !  Look  who's  coming !  Oh,  Dan  !  " 

Dan  the  silent  raised  his  eyes  and  saw  a 
man,  with  a  bandage  of  the  size  of  a  helmet 
about  his  head,  receiving  a  furious  demon- 
stration  from  the  company.  He  was  shaking 
hands,  and  explaining,  and  haranguing  to  a 
high  degree. 

Dan  started.  His  face  of  bronze  flushed 
to  his  temples.  He  seemed  about  to  leap 
from  the  ground>  but  then  suddenly  he  sank 
back,  and  resumed  his  impassive  gazing. 

The  men  were  in  a  flurry.  They  looked 
from  one  to  the  other.  "  Dan  !  Look !  See 
who's  coming  !  "  some  cried  again.  "  Dan  ! 
Look ! " 

He  scowled  at  last,  and  moved  his  shoul- 
ders sullenly.  "  Well,  don't  I  know  it  ?  " 

But  they  could  not  be  convinced  that  his 
eyes  were  in  service.  "  Dan !  Why  can't 
you  look  ?  See  who's  coming !  " 


44  THE  LITTLE   REGIMENT. 

He  made  a  gesture  then  of  irritation  and 
rage.  "  Curse  it !  Don't  I  know  it  ?  " 

The  man  with  a  bandage  of  the  size  of  a 
helmet  moved  forward,  always  shaking  hands 
and  explaining.  At  times  his  glance  wan- 
dered to  Dan,  who  saw  with  his  eyes 
riveted. 

After  a  series  of  shiftings,  it  occurred 
naturally  that  the  man  with  the  bandage 
was  very  near  to  the  man  who  saw  the 
flames.  He  paused,  and  there  was  a  little 
silence.  Finally  he  said  :  "  Hello,  Dan." 

"Hello,  Billie." 


THREE  MIRACULOUS  SOLDIERS. 


I. 

THE  girl  was  in  the  front  room  on  the  sec- 
ond floor,  peering  through  the  blinds.  It  was 
the  "  best  room."  There  was  a  very  new  rag 
carpet  on  the  floor.  The  edges  of  it  had  been 
dyed  with  alternate  stripes  of  red  and  green. 
Upon  the  wooden  mantel  there  were  two  little 
puffy  figures  in  clay — a  shepherd  and  a  shep- 
herdess probably.  A  triangle  of  pink  and 
white  wool  hung  carefully  over  the  edge  of 
this  shelf.  Upon  the  bureau  there  was  noth- 
ing at  all  save  a  spread  newspaper,  with  edges 
folded  to  make  it  into  a  mat.  The  quilts  and 
sheets  had  been  removed  from  the  bed  and 
were  stacked  upon  a  chair.  The  pillows  and 

45 


46  THREE   MIRACULOUS   SOLDIERS. 

the  great  feather  mattress  were  muffled  and 
tumbled  until  they  resembled  great  dump- 
lings. The  picture  of  a  man  terribly  leaden 
in  complexion  hung  in  an  oval  frame  on  one 
white  wall  and  steadily  confronted  the  bureau. 

From  between  the  slats  of  the  blinds  she 
had  a  view  of  the  road  as  it  wended  across 
the  meadow  to  the  woods,  and  again  where  it 
reappeared  crossing  the  hill,  half  a  mile  away. 
It  lay  yellow  and  warm  in  the  summer  sun- 
shine. From  the  long  grasses  of  the  meadow 
came  the  rhythmic  click  of  the  insects.  Occa- 
sional frogs  in  the  hidden  brook  made  a  pe- 
culiar chug-chug  sound,  as  if  somebody  throt- 
tled them.  The  leaves  of  the  wood  swung 
in  gentle  winds.  Through  the  dark-green 
branches  of  the  pines  that  grew  in  the  front 
yard  could  be  seen  the  mountains,  far  to  the 
southeast,  and  inexpressibly  blue. 

Mary's  eyes  were  fastened  upon  the  little 
streak  of  road  that  appeared  on  the  distant 
hill.  Her  face  was  flushed  with  excitement, 
and  the  hand  which  stretched  in  a  strained 


THREE   MIRACULOUS   SOLDIERS.  47 

pose  on  the  sill  trembled  because  of  the  nerv- 
ous shaking-  of  the  wrist.  The  pines  whisked 
their  green  needles  with  a  soft,  hissing  sound 
against  the  house. 

At  last  the  girl  turned  from  the  window 
and  went  to  the  head  of  the  stairs.  "  Well,  I 
just  know  they're  coming,  anyhow,"  she  cried 
argumentatively  to  the  depths. 

A  voice  from  below  called  to  her  angrily : 
"They  ain't.  We've  never  seen  one  yet. 
They  never  come  into  this  neighbourhood. 
You  just  come  down  here  and  'tend  to  your 
work  insteader  watching  for  soldiers." 

"  Well,  ma,  I  just  know  they're  corning." 

A  voice  retorted  with  the  shrillness  and 
mechanical  violence  of  occasional  housewives. 
The  girl  swished  her  skirts  defiantly  and  re- 
turned to  the  window. 

Upon  the  yellow  streak  of  road  that  lay 
across  the  hillside  there  now  was  a  handful  of 
black  dots — horsemen.  A  cloud  of  dust  float- 
ed away.  The  girl  flew  to  the  head  of  the 
stairs  and  whirled  down  into  the  kitchen. 


48  THREE   MIRACULOUS  SOLDIERS. 

"  They're  coming !     They're  coming !  " 

It  was  as  if  she  had  cried  "  Fire ! "  Her 
mother  had  been  peeling  potatoes  while  seated 
comfortably  at  the  table.  She  sprang  to  her 
feet.  "  No — it  can't  be — how  you  know  it's 
them — where?"  The  stubby  knife  fell  from 
her  hand,  and  two  or  three  curls  of  potato 
skin  dropped  from  her  apron  to  the  floor. 

The  girl  turned  and  dashed  upstairs. 
Her  mother  followed,  gasping  for  breath,  and 
yet  contriving  to  fill  the  air  with  questions, 
reproach,  and  remonstrance.  The  girl  was 
already  at  the  window,  eagerly  pointing. 
"  There!  There!  See 'em!  See  'em  !  " 

Rushing  to  the  window,  the  mother 
scanned  for  an  instant  the  road  on  the  hill. 
She  crouched  back  with  a  groan.  "  It's 
them,  sure  as  the  world  !  It's  them !  "  She 
waved  her  hands  in  despairing  gestures. 

The  black  dots  vanished  into  the  wood. 
The  girl  at  the  window  was  quivering  and  her 
eyes  were  shining  like  water  when  the  sun 
flashes.  "  Hush !  They're  in  the  woods ! 


THREE   MIRACULOUS  SOLDIERS.  49 

They'll  be  here  directly."  She  bent  down 
and  intently  watched  the  green  archway 
whence  the  road  emerged.  "  Hush !  I  hear 
'em  coming,"  she  swiftly  whispered  to  her 
mother,  for  the  elder  woman  had  dropped 
dolefully  upon  the  mattress  and  was  sobbing. 
And  indeed  the  girl  could  hear  the  quick,  dull 
trample  of  horses.  She  stepped  aside  with 
sudden  apprehension,  but  she  bent  her  head 
forward  in  order  to  still  scan  the  road. 

"  Here  they  are !  " 

There  was  something  very  theatrical  in 
the  sudden  appearance  of  these  men  to  the 
eyes  of  the  girl.  It  was  as  if  a  scene  had 
been  shifted.  The  forest  suddenly  disclosed 
them— a  dozen  brown-faced  troopers  in  blue 
—galloping. 

"  Oh,  look !  "  breathed  the  girl.  Her 
mouth  was  puckered  into  an  expression  of 
strange  fascination  as  if  she  had  expected  to 
see  the  troopers  change  into  demons  and 
gloat  at  her.  She  was  at  last  looking  upon 
those  curious  beings  who  rode  down  from  the 


50  THREE  MIRACULOUS  SOLDIERS. 

North — those  men  of  legend  and  colossal  tale 
— they  who  were  possessed  of  such  marvel- 
lous hallucinations. 

The  little  troop  rode  in  silence.  At  its 
head  was  a  youthful  fellow  with  some  dim 
yellow  stripes  upon  his  arm.  In  his  right 
hand  he  held  his  carbine,  slanting  upward, 
with  the  stock  resting  upon  his  knee.  He 
was  absorbed  in  a  scrutiny  of  the  country  be- 
fore him. 

At  the  heels  ot  the  sergeant  the  rest  of  the 
squad  rode  in  thin  column,  with  creak  of 
leather  and  tinkle  of  steel  and  tin.  The  girl 
scanned  the  faces  of  the  horsemen,  seeming 
astonished  vaguely  to  find  them  of  the  type 
she  knew. 

The  lad  at  the  head  of  the  troop  compre- 
hended the  house  and  its  environments  in  two 
glances.  He  did  not  check  the  long,  swinging 
stride  of  his  horse.  The  troopers  glanced  for 
a  moment  like  casual  tourists,  and  then  re- 
turned to  their  study  of  the  region  in  front. 
The  heavy  thudding  of  the  hoofs  became  a 


THREE  MIRACULOUS  SOLDIERS.  51 

small  noise.  The  dust,  hanging  in  sheets, 
slowly  sank. 

The  sobs  of  the  woman  on  the  bed  took 
form  in  words  which,  while  strong  in  their 
note  of  calamity,  yet  expressed  a  querulous 
mental  reaching  for  some  near  thing  to  blame. 
"  And  it'll  be  lucky  fer  us  if  we  ain't  both  butch- 
ered in  our  sleep — plundering  and  running  off 
horses — old  Santo's  gone — you  see  if  he  ain't 
— plundering " 

"But,  ma,"  said  the  girl,  perplexed  and 
terrified  in  the  same  moment,  "  they've  gone." 

"Oh,  but  they'll  come  back!"  cried  the 
mother,  without  pausing  her  wail.  "  They'll 
come  back — trust  them  for  that — running  off 
horses.  O  John,  John !  why  did  you,  why 
did  you  ? "  She  suddenly  lifted  herself  and 
sat  rigid,  staring  at  her  daughter.  "  Mary," 
she  said  in  tragic  whisper,  "  the  kitchen 
door  isn't  locked  !  "  Already  she  was  bended 
forward  to  listen,  her  mouth  agape,  her  eyes 
fixed  upon  her  daughter. 

"  Mother,"  faltered  the  girl. 


52  THREE  MIRACULOUS  SOLDIERS. 

Her  mother  again  whispered, "  The  kitchen 
door  isn't  locked." 

Motionless  and  mute  they  stared  into  each 
other's  eyes. 

At  last  the  girl  quavered,  "  We  better — we 
better  go  and  lock  it."  The  mother  nodded. 
Hanging  arm  in  arm  they  stole  across  the  floor 
toward  the  head  of  the  stairs.  A  board  of  the 
floor  creaked.  They  halted  and  exchanged  a 
look  of  dumb  agony. 

At  last  they  reached  the  head  of  the  stairs. 
From  the  kitchen  came  the  bass  humming  of 
the  kettle  and  frequent  sputterings  and  crac- 
klings from  the  fire.  These  sounds  were  sin- 
ister. The  mother  and  the  girl  stood  inca- 
pable of  movement.  "  There's  somebody  down 
there  !  "  whispered  the  elder  woman. 

Finally,  the  girl  made  a  gesture  of  resolu- 
tion. She  twisted  her  arm  from  her  mother's 
hands  and  went  two  steps  downward.  She 
addressed  the  kitchen  :  "  Who's  there  ?  "  Her 
tone  was  intended  to  be  dauntless.  It  rang  so 
dramatically  in  the  silence  that  a  sudden  new 


THREE  MIRACULOUS  SOLDIERS.  53 

panic  seized  them  as  if  the  suspected  presence 
in  the  kitchen  had  cried  out  to  them.  But 
the  girl  ventured  again :  "  Is  there  anybody 
there  ? "  No  reply  was  made  save  by  the 
kettle  and  the  fire. 

With  a  stealthy  tread  the  girl  continued 
her  journey.  As  she  neared  the  last  step  the 
fire  crackled  explosively  and  the  girl  screamed. 
But  the  mystic  presence  had  not  swept  around 
the  corner  to  grab  her,  so  she  dropped  to  a 
seat  on  the  step  and  laughed.  "  It  was — was 
only  the — the  fire,"  she  said,  stammering  hys- 
terically. 

Then  she  arose  with  sudden  fortitude  and 
cried :  "  Why,  there  isn't  anybody  there !  I 
know  there  isn't."  She  marched  down  into  the 
kitchen.  In  her  face  was  dread,  as  if  she  half 
expected  to  confront  something,  but  the  room 
was  empty.  She  cried  joyously :  "  There's 
nobody  here  !  Come  on  down,  ma."  She  ran 
to  the  kitchen  door  and  locked  it. 

The  mother  came  down  to  the  kitch- 
en. "  Oh,  dear,  what  a  fright  I've  had  !  It's 


54  THREE    MIRACULOUS   SOLDIERS. 

given  me  the  sick  headache.  I  know  it 
has." 

"  Oh,  ma,"  said  the  girl. 

"  I  know  it  has — I  know  it.  Oh,  if  your 
father  was  only  here !  He'd  settle  those 
Yankees  mighty  quick — he'd  settle  'em  !  Two 
poor  helpless  women " 

"  Why,  ma,  what  makes  you  act  so  ?  The 
Yankees  haven't " 

"Oh,  they'll  be  back— they'll  be  back. 
Two  poor  helpless  women  !  Your  father  and 
your  uncle  Asa  and  Bill  off  galavanting  around 
and  fighting  when  they  ought  to  be  protecting 
their  home  !  That's  the  kind  of  men  they  are. 
Didn't  I  say  to  your  father  just  before  he 
left " 

"  Ma,"  said  the  girl,  coming  suddenly  from 
the  window,  "  the  barn  door  is  open.  I  won- 
der if  they  took  old  Santo?  " 

"  Oh,  of  course  they  have— of  course 

Mary,  I  don't  see  what  we  are  going 
to  do  —  I  don't  see  what  we  are  going 
to  do." 


THREE   MIRACULOUS   SOLDIERS.  55 

The  girl  said,  "  Ma,  I'm  going  to  see  if 
they  took  old  Santo." 

"Mary,"  cried  the  mother,  "don't  you 
dare !  " 

"  But  think  of  poor  old  Sant,  ma." 

"  Never  you  mind  old  Santo.  \Ve're 
lucky  to  be  safe  ourselves,  I  tell  you.  Never 
mind  old  Santo.  Don't  you  dare  to  go  out 
there,  Mary — Mary  !  " 

The  girl  had  unlocked  the  door  and 
stepped  out  upon  the  porch.  The  mother 
cried  in  despair,  "  Mary  !  " 

"  Why,  there  isn't  anybody  out  here,"  the 
girl  called  in  response.  She  stood  for  a  mo- 
ment with  a  curious  smile  upon  her  face  as  of 
gleeful  satisfaction  at  her  daring. 

The  breeze  was  waving  the  boughs  of 
the  apple  trees.  A  rooster  with  an  air  im- 
portantly courteous  was  conducting  three 
hens  upon  a  foraging  tour.  On  the  hillside  at 
the  rear  of  the  gray  old  barn  the  red  leaves  of 
a  creeper  flamed  amid  the  summer  foliage. 
High  in  the  sky  clouds  rolled  toward  the 


56  THREE   MIRACULOUS   SOLDIERS. 

north.     The  girl  swung  impulsively  from  the 
little  stoop  and  ran  toward  the  barn. 

The  great  door  was  open,  and  the  carved 
peg  which  usually  performed  the  office  of  a 
catch  lay  on  the  ground.  The  girl  could  not 
see  into  the  barn  because  of  the  heavy  shad- 
ows. She  paused  in  a  listening  attitude  and 
heard  a  horse  munching  placidly.  She  gave 
a  cry  of  delight  and  sprang  across  the  thresh- 
old. Then  she  suddenly  shrank  back  and 
gasped.  She  had  confronted  three  men  in 
gray  seated  upon  the  floor  with  their  legs 
stretched  out  and  their  backs  against  Santo's 
manger.  Their  dust-covered  countenances 
were  expanded  in  grins. 

II. 

As  Mary  sprang  backward  and  screamed, 
one  of  the  calm  men  in  gray,  still  grinning, 
announced,  "  I  knowed  you'd  holler."  Sit- 
ting there  comfortably  the  three  surveyed  her 
with  amusement. 

Mary   caught  her  breath,    throwing    her 


THREE   MIRACULOUS  SOLDIERS. 


57 


hand  up  to  her  throat.  "  Oh ! "  she  said, 
"  you — you  frightened  me  !  " 

"  We're  sorry,  lady,  but  couldn't  help  it 
no  way,"  cheerfully  responded  another.  "  I 
knowed  you'd  holler  when  I  seen  you  coming 
yere,  but  I  raikoned  we  couldn't  help  it  no 
way.  We  hain't  a-troubling  this  yere  barn,  I 
don't  guess.  We  been  doing  some  mighty 
tall  sleeping  yere.  We  done  woke  when  them 
Yanks  loped  past." 

"Where  did  you  come  from?  Did — did 
you  escape  from  the — the  Yankees  ?  "  The 
girl  still  stammered  and  trembled.  The  three 
soldiers  laughed.  "  No,  m'm.  No,  m'm.  They 
never  cotch  us.  We  was  in  a  muss  down  the 
road  yere  about  two  mile.  And  Bill  yere 
they  gin  it  to  him  in  the  arm,  kehplunk.  And 
they  pasted  me  thar,  too.  Curious.  And 
Sim  yere,  he  didn't  get  nothing,  but  they 
chased  us  all  quite  a  little  piece,  and  we  done 
lose  track  of  our  boys." 

"  Was  it — was  it  those  who  passed  here 
just  now  ?  Did  they  chase  you  ?  " 


$3  THREE  MIRACULOUS  SOLDIERS. 

The  men  in  gray  laughed  again.  "  What 
— them  ?  No,  indeedee  !  There  was  a  mighty 
big  swarm  of  Yanks  and  a  mighty  big  swarm 
of  our  boys,  too.  What — that  little  passel  ? 
No,  m'm." 

She  became  calm  enough  to  scan  them 
more  attentively.  They  were  much  begrimed 
and  very  dusty.  Their  gray  clothes  were 
tattered.  Splashed  mud  had  dried  upon  them 
in  reddish  spots.  It  appeared,  too,  that  the 
men  had  not  shaved  in  many  days.  In  the 
hats  there  was  a  singular  diversity.  One  sol- 
dier wore  the  little  blue  cap  of  the  Northern 
infantry,  with  corps  emblem  and  regimental 
number ;  one  wore  a  great  slouch  hat  with  a 
wide  hole  in  the  crown;  and  the  other  wore 
no  hat  at  all.  The  left  sleeve  of  one  man  and 
the  right  sleeve  of  another  had  been  slit  and  the 
arms  were  neatly  bandaged  with  clean  cloth. 
"  These  hain't  no  more  than  two  little  cuts," 
explained  one.  "  We  stopped  up  yere  to 
Mis'  Leavitts — she  said  her  name  was — and 
she  bind  them  for  us.  Bill  yere,  he  had  the 


THREE   MIRACULOUS   SOLDIERS.  59 

thirst  come  on  him.  And  the  fever  too. 
We " 

"  Did  you  ever  see  my  father  in  the 
army  ?  "  asked  Mary.  "  John  Hinckson — his 
name  is." 

The  three  soldiers  grinned  again,  but  they 
replied  kindly :  "  No,  m'm.  No,  m'm,  we 
hain't  never.  What  is  he  —  in  the  cav- 
alry?" 

"  No,"  said  the  girl.  "  He  and  my  uncle 
Asa  and  my  cousin — his  name  is  Bill  Parker 
— they  are  all  with  Longstreet — they  call 
him." 

"Oh,"  said  the  soldiers.  "Longstreet? 
Oh,  they're  a  good  smart  ways  from  yere. 
'Way  off  up  nawtheast.  There  hain't  nothing 
but  cavalry  down  yere.  They're  in  the  in- 
fantry, probably." 

"  We  haven't  heard  anything  from  them 
for  days  and  days,"  said  Mary. 

"Oh,  they're  all  right  in  the  infantry," 
said  one  man,  to  be  consoling.  "  The  infantry 
don't  do  much  fighting.  They  go  bellering 


60  THREE   MIRACULOUS  SOLDIERS. 

out  in  a  big  swarm  and  only  a  few  of  'em  get 
hurt.  But  if  they  was  in  the  cavalry — the 
cavalry " 

Mary  interrupted  him  without  intention. 
"  Are  you  hungry  ?  "  she  asked. 

The  soldiers  looked  at  each  other,  struck 
by  some  sudden  and  singular  shame.  They 
hung  their  heads.  "  No,  m'm,"  replied  one  at 
last. 

Santo,  in  his  stall,  was  tranquilly  chewing 
and  chewing.  Sometimes  he  looked  benevo- 
lently over  at  them.  He  was  an  old  horse 
and  there  was  something  about  his  eyes  and 
his  forelock  which  created  the  impression  that 
he  wore  spectacles.  Mary  went  and  patted 
his  nose.  "  Well,  if  you  are  hungry,  I  can  get 
you  something,"  she  told  the  men.  "  Or  you 
might  come  to  the  house." 

"  We  wouldn't  dast  go  to  the  house,"  said 
one.  "  That  passel  of  Yanks  was  only  a 
scouting  crowd,  most  like.  Just  an  advance. 
More  coming,  likely." 

"  Well,  I  can  bring  you  something,"  cried 


THREE   MIRACULOUS   SOLDIERS.  6l 

the  girl  eagerly.  "  Won't  you  let  me  bring 
you  something?" 

"  Well,"  said  a  soldier  with  embarrassment, 
"  we  hain't  had  much.  If  you  could  bring  us 
a  little  snack-like—just  a  snack— we'd " 

Without  waiting  for  him  to  cease,  the 
girl  turned  toward  the  door.  But  before  she 
had  reached  it  she  stopped  abruptly.  "  Lis- 
ten !  "  she  whispered.  Her  form  was  bent 
forward,  her  head  turned  and  lowered,  her 
hand  extended  toward  the  men  in  a  command 
for  silence. 

They  could  faintly  hear  the  thudding  of 
many  hoofs,  the  clank  of  arms,  and  frequent 
calling  voices. 

"By  cracky,  it's  the  Yanks!"  The  sol- 
diers scrambled  to  their  feet  and  came  toward 
the  door.  "  I  knowed  that  first  crowd  was 
only  an  advance." 

The  girl  and  the  three  men  peered  from 
the  shadows  of  the  barn.  The  view  of  the 
road  was  intersected  by  tree  trunks  and  a 
little  henhouse.  However,  they  could  see 


62  THREE   MIRACULOUS  SOLDIERS. 

many  horsemen  streaming  down  the  road. 
The  horsemen  were  in  blue.  "  Oh,  hide — hide 
— hide !  "  cried  the  girl,  with  a  sob  in  her  voice. 

"  Wait  a  minute,"  whispered  a  gray  soldier 
excitedly.  "  Maybe  they're  going  along  by. 
No,  by  thunder,  they  hain't!  They're  halt- 
ing. Scoot,  boys !  " 

They  made  a  noiseless  dash  into  the  dark 
end  of  the  barn.  The  girl,  standing  by  the 
door,  heard  them  break  forth  an  instant  later 
in  clamorous  whispers.  "  Where'll  we  hide  ? 
Where'll  we  hide?  There  hain't  a  place  to 
hide !  "  The  girl  turned  and  glanced  wildly 
about  the  barn.  It  seemed  true.  The  stock 
of  hay  had  grown  low  under  Santo's  endless 
munching,  and  from  occasional  levyings  by 
passing  troopers  in  gray.  The  poles  of  the 
mow  were  barely  covered,  save  in  one  corner 
where  there  was  a  little  bunch. 

The  girl  espied  the  great  feed  box.  She 
ran  to  it  and  lifted  the  lid.  "  Here !  here !  " 
she  called.  «  Get  in  here." 

They  had  been  tearing  noiselessly  around 


THREE  MIRACULOUS   SOLDIERS.  63 

the  rear  part  of  the  barn.  At  her  low  call 
they  came  and  plunged  at  the  box.  They  did 
not  all  get  in  at  the  same  moment  without  a 
good  deal  of  a  tangle.  The  wounded  men 
gasped  and  muttered,  but  they  at  last  were 
flopped  down  on  the  layer  of  feed  which 
covered  the  bottom.  Swiftly  and  softly  the 
girl  lowered  the  lid  and  then  turned  like  a 
flash  toward  the  door. 

No  one  appeared  there,  so  she  went  close 
to  survey  the  situation.  The  troopers  had 
dismounted  and  stood  in  silence  by  their 
horses.  A  gray-bearded  man,  whose  red 
cheeks  and  nose  shone  vividly  above  the 
whiskers,  was  strolling  about  with  two  or 
three  others.  They  wore  double-breasted 
coats,  and  faded  yellow  sashes  were  wound 
under  their  black  leather  sword  belts.  The 
gray-bearded  soldier  was  apparently  giving 
orders,  pointing  here  and  there. 

Mary  tiptoed  to  the  feed  box.  "  They've 
all  got  off  their  horses,"  she  said  to  it.  A 
finger  projected  from  a  knothole  near  the  top 


64  THREE  MIRACULOUS   SOLDIERS. 

and  said  to  her  very  plainly,  "  Come  closer." 
She  obeyed,  and  then  a  muffled  voice  could 
be  heard :  "  Scoot  for  the  house,  lady,  and  if 
we  don't  see  you  again,  why,  much  obliged 
for  what  you  done." 

"  Good-bye,"  she  said  to  the  feed  box. 

She  made  two  attempts  to  walk  dauntlessly 
from  the  barn,  but  each  time  she  faltered  and 
failed  just  before  she  reached  the  point  where 
she  could  have  been  seen  by  the  blue-coated 
troopers.  At  last,  however,  she  made  a  sort 
of  a  rush  forward  and  went  out  into  the 
bright  sunshine. 

The  group  of  men  in  double-breasted 
coats  wheeled  in  her  direction  at  the  instant. 
The  gray-bearded  officer  forgot  to  lower  his 
arm  which  had  been  stretched  forth  in  giving 
an  order. 

She  felt  that  her  feet  were  touching  the 
ground  in  a  most  unnatural  manner.  Her 
bearing,  she  believed,  was  suddenly  grown 
awkward  and  ungainly.  Upon  her  face  she 
thought  that  this  sentence  was  plainly  writ- 


THREE  MIRACULOUS  SOLDIERS.  65 

ten :  "  There  are  three  men  hidden  in  the  feed 
box." 

The  gray-bearded  soldier  came  toward 
her.  She  stopped ;  she  seemed  about  to  run 
away.  But  the  soldier  doffed  his  little  blue 
cap  and  looked  amiable.  "  You  live  here,  I 
presume?"  he  said. 

"  Yes,"  she  answered. 

"  Well,  we  are  obliged  to  camp  here  for 
the  night,  and  as  we've  got  two  wounded  men 
with  us  I  don't  suppose  you'd  mind  if  we 
put  them  in  the  barn." 

"  In— in  the  barn  ?  " 

He  became  aware  that  she  was  agitated. 
He  smiled  assuringly.  "  You  needn't  be 
frightened.  We  won't  hurt  anything  around 
here.  You'll  all  be  safe  enough." 

The  girl  balanced  on  one  foot  and  swung 
the  other  to  and  fro  in  the  grass.  She  was 
looking  down  at  it.  "  But — but  I  don't  think 
ma  would  like  it  if — if  you  took  the  barn." 

The  old  officer  laughed.  "  Wouldn't  she  ? " 
said  he.  "That's  so.  Maybe  she  wouldn't." 


66  THREE   MIRACULOUS   SOLDIERS. 

He  reflected  for  a  time  and  then  decided 
cheerfully  :  "  Well,  we  will  have  to  go  ask 
her,  anyhow.  Where  is  she  ?  In  the  house  ?  " 

"Yes,"  replied  the  girl,  "she's  in  the 
house.  She — she'll  be  scared  to  death  when 
she  sees  you  !  " 

"  Well,  you  go  and  ask  her  then,"  said 
the  soldier,  always  wearing  a  benign  smile. 
"You  go  ask  her  and  then  come  and  tell  me." 

When  the  girl  pushed  open  the  door  and 
entered  the  kitchen,  she  found  it  empty. 
"Ma!"  she  called  softly.  There  was  no  an- 
swer. The  kettle  still  was  humming  its  low 
song.  The  knife  and  the  curl  of  potato  skin 
lay  on  the  floor. 

She  went  to  her  mother's  room  and  en- 
tered timidly.  The  new,  lonely  aspect  of  the 
house  shook  her  nerves.  Upon  the  bed  was 
a  confusion  of  coverings.  "  Ma  !  "  called  the 
girl,  quaking  in  fear  that  her  mother  was  not 
there  to  reply.  But  there  was  a  sudden  tur- 
moil of  the  quilts,  and  her  mother's  head  was 
thrust  forth.  "  Mary !  "  she  cried,  in  what 


THREE   MIRACULOUS  SOLDIERS.  67 

seemed  to  be  a  supreme  astonishment,  "I 
thought — I  thought " 

"  Oh,  ma,"  blurted  the  girl,  "  there's  over 
a  thousand  Yankees  in  the  yard,  and  I've  hid- 
den three  of  our  men  in  the  feed  box ! " 

The  elder  woman,  however,  upon  the 
appearance  of  her  daughter  had  begun  to 
thrash  hysterically  about  on  the  bed  and 
wail. 

"  Ma,"  the  girl  exclaimed,  "  and  now  they 
want  to  use  the  barn — and  our  men  in  the 
feed  box!  What  shall  I  do,  ma?  What 
shall  I  do?" 

Her  mother  did  not  seem  to  hear,  so  ab- 
sorbed was  she  in  her  grievous  flounderings 
and  tears.  "  Ma  !  "  appealed  the  girl.  "  Ma !  " 

For  a  moment  Mary  stood  silently  de- 
bating, her  lips,  apart,  her  eyes  fixed.  Then 
she  went  to  the  kitchen  window  and  peeked. 

The  old  officer  and  the  others  were  staring 
up  the  road.  She  went  to  another  window 
in  order  to  get  a  proper  view  of  the  road,  and 
saw  that  they  were  gazing  at  a  small  body 


68  THREE   MIRACULOUS   SOLDIERS. 

of  horsemen  approaching  at  a  trot  and  rais- 
ing much  dust.  Presently  she  recognised 
them  as  the  squad  that  had  passed  the  house 
earlier,  for  the  young  man  with  the  dim 
yellow  chevron  still  rode  at  their  head.  An 
unarmed  horseman  in  gray  was  receiving 
their  close  attention. 

As  they  came  very  near  to  the  house  she 
darted  to  the  first  window  again.  The  gray- 
bearded  officer  was  smiling  a  fine  broad 
smile  of  satisfaction.  "So  you  got  him?" 
he  called  out.  The  young  sergeant  sprang 
from  his  horse  and  his  brown  hand  moved  in 
a  salute.  The  girl  could  not  hear  his  reply. 
She  saw  the  unarmed  horseman  in  gray 
stroking  a  very  black  mustache  and  looking 
about  him  coolly  and  with  an  interested  air. 
He  appeared  so  indifferent  that  she  did  not 
understand  he  was  a  prisoner  until  she 
heard  the  graybeard  call  out:  "Well,  put 
him  in  the  barn.  He'll  be  safe  there,  I 
guess."  A  party  of  troopers  moved  with  the 
prisoner  toward  the  barn. 


THREE   MIRACULOUS  SOLDIERS.  69 

The  girl  made  a  sudden  gesture  of  horror, 
remembering  the  three  men  in  the  feed  box. 


III. 

THE  busy  troopers  in  blue  scurried  about 
the  long  lines  of  stamping  horses.  Men 
crooked  their  backs  and  perspired  in  order  to 
rub  with  cloths  or  bunches  of  grass  these  slim 
equine  legs,  upon  whose  splendid  machinery 
they  depended  so  greatly.  The  lips  of  the 
horses  were  still  wet  and  frothy  from  the  steel 
bars  which  had  wrenched  at  their  mouths  all 
day.  Over  their  backs  and  about  their  noses 
sped  the  talk  of  the  men. 

"  Moind  where  yer  plug  is  steppin',  Finer- 
ty  !  Keep  'im  aff  me  !  " 

"  An  ould  elephant !  He  shtrides  like  a 
schoolhouse." 

"  Bill's  little  mar — she  was  plum  beat  when 
she  come  in  with  Crawford's  crowd." 

"  Crawford's  the  hardest-ridin'  cavalryman 
in  the  army.  An  he  don't  use  up  a  horse, 


70  THREE   MIRACULOUS  SOLDIERS. 

neither — much.  They  stay  fresh  when  the 
others  are  most  a-droppin'." 

"  Finerty,  will  yeh  moind  that  cow  a 
yours  ? " 

Amid  a  bustle  of  gossip  and  banter,  the 
horses  retained  their  air  of  solemn  rumina- 
tion, twisting  their  lower  jaws'  from  side 
to  side  and  sometimes  rubbing  noses  dream- 
fully. 

Over  in  front  of  the  barn  three  troopers 
sat  talking  comfortably.  Their  carbines  were 
leaned  against  the  wall.  At  their  side  and 
outlined  in  the  black  of  the  open  door  stood  a 
sentry,  his  weapon  resting  in  the  hollow  of  his 
arm.  Four  horses,  saddled  and  accoutred, 
were  conferring  with  their  heads  close  to- 
gether. The  four  bridle  reins  were  flung  over 
a  post. 

Upon  the  calm  green  of  the  land,  typical 
in  every  way  of  peace,  the  hues  of  war 
brought  thither  by  the  troops  shone  strangely. 
Mary,  gazing  curiously,  did  not  feel  that  she 
was  contemplating  a  familiar  scene.  It  was 


THREE   MIRACULOUS   SOLDIERS.  >ji 

no  Jonger  the  home  acres.  The  new  blue, 
steel,  and  faded  yellow  thoroughly  dominated 
the  old  green  and  brown.  She  could  hear  the 
voices  of  the  men,  and  it  seemed  from  their 
tone  that  they  had  camped  there  for  years. 
Everything  with  them  was  usual.  They  had 
taken  possession  of  the  landscape  in  such  a 
way  that  even  the  old  marks  appeared  strange 
and  formidable  to  the  girl. 

Mary  had  intended  to  go  and  tell  the  com- 
mander in  blue  that  her  mother  did  not  wish 
his  men  to  use  the  barn  at  all,  but  she  paused 
when  she  heard  him  speak  to  the  sergeant. 
She  thought  she  perceived  then  that  it  mat- 
tered little  to  him  what  her  mother  wished, 
and  that  an  objection  by  her  or  by  anybody 
would  be  futile.  She  saw  the  soldiers  conduct 
the  prisoner  in  gray  into  the  barn,  and  for  a 
long  time  she  watched  the  three  chatting 
guards  and  the  pondering  sentry.  Upon  her 
mind  in  desolate  weight  was  the  recollection 
of  the  three  men  in  the  feed  box. 

It  seemed  to  her  that  in  a  case  of  this  de- 


72  THREE   MIRACULOUS  SOLDIERS. 

scription  it  was  her  duty  to  be  a  heroine.  In 
all  the  stories  she  had  read  when  at  boarding 
school  in  Pennsylvania,  the  girl  characters, 
confronted  with  such  difficulties,  invariably 
did  hair  breadth  things.  True,  they  were  usu- 
ally bent  upon  rescuing  and  recovering  their 
lovers,  and  neither  the  calm  man  in  gray  nor 
any  of  the  three  in  the  feed  box  was  lover  of 
hers,  but  then  a  real  heroine  would  not  pause 
over  this  minor  question.  Plainly  a  heroine 
would  take  measures  to  rescue  the  four  men. 
If  she  did  not  at  least  make  the  attempt,  she 
would  be  false  to  those  carefully  constructed 
ideals  which  were  the  accumulation  of  years 
of  dreaming. 

But  the  situation  puzzled  her.  There  was 
the  barn  with  only  one  door,  and  with  four 
armed  troopers  in  front  of  this  door,  one  of 
them  with  his  back  to  the  rest  of  the  world, 
engaged,  no  doubt,  in  a  steadfast  contempla- 
tion of  the  calm  man  and,  incidentally,  of  the 
feed  box.  She  knew,  too,  that  even  if  she 
should  open  the  kitchen  door,  three  heads  and 


THREE   MIRACULOUS  SOLDIERS. 


73 


perhaps  four  would  turn  casually  in  her  direc- 
tion.   Their  ears  were  real  ears. 

Heroines,  she  knew,  conducted  these  mat- 
ters with  infinite  precision  and  despatch. 
They  severed  the  hero's  bonds,  cried  a  drama- 
tic sentence,  and  stood  between  him  and  his 
enemies  until  he  had  run  far  enough  away. 
She  saw  well,  however,  that  even  should  she 
achieve  all  things  up  to  the  point  where  she 
might  take  glorious  stand  between  the  es- 
caping and  the  pursuers,  those  grim  troopers 
in  blue  would  not  pause.  They  would  run 
around  her,  make  a  circuit.  One  by  one  she 
saw  the  gorgeous  contrivances  and  expedients 
of  fiction  fall  before  the  plain,  homely  difficul- 
ties of  this  situation.  They  were  of  no  serv- 
ice. Sadly,  ruefully,  she  thought  of  the  calm 
man  and  of  the  contents  of  the  feed  box. 

The  sum  of  her  invention  was  that  she 
could  sally  forth  to  the  commander  of  the 
blue  cavalry,  and  confessing  to  him  that  there 
were  three  of  her  friends  and  his  enemies  se- 
creted in  the  feed  box,  pray  him  to  let  them 


74  THREE   MIRACULOUS  SOLDIERS. 

depart  unmolested.  But  she  was  beginning 
to  believe  the  old  graybeard  to  be  a  bear.  It 
was  hardly  probable  that  he  would  give  this 
plan  his  support.  It  was  more  probable  that 
he  and  some  of  his  men  would  at  once  de- 
scend upon  the  feed  box  and  confiscate  her 
three  friends.  The  difficulty  with  her  idea 
was  that  she  could  not  learn  its  value  without 
trying  it,  and  then  in  case  of  failure  it  would 
be  too  late  for  remedies  and  other  plans.  She 
reflected  that  war  made  men  very  unreason- 
able. 

All  that  she  could  do  was  to  stand  at  the 
window  and  mournfully  regard  the  barn. 
She  admitted  this  to  herself  with  a  sense  of 
deep  humiliation.  She  was  not,  then,  made  of 
that  fine  stuff,  that  mental  satin,  which  enabled 
some  other  beings  to  be  of  such  mighty  serv- 
ice to  the  distressed.  She  was  defeated  by  a 
barn  with  one  door,  by  four  men  with  eight 
eyes  and  eight  ears — trivialities  that  would 
not  impede  the  real  heroine. 

The  vivid  white  light  of  broad  day  began 


THREE   MIRACULOUS  SOLDIERS.  75 

slowly  to  fade.  Tones  of  gray  came  upon  the 
fields,  and  the  shadows  were  of  lead.  In  this 
more  sombre  atmosphere  the  fires  built  by  the 
troops  down  in  the  far  end  of  the  orchard 
grew  more  brilliant,  becoming  spots  of  crim- 
son colour  in  the  dark  grove. 

The  girl  heard  a  fretting  voice  from  her 
mother's  room.  "  Mary  !  "  She  hastily  obeyed 
the  call.  She  perceived  that  she  had  quite 
forgotten  her  mother's  existence  in  this  time 
of  excitement. 

The  elder  woman  still  lay  upon  the  bed. 
Her  face  was  flushed  and  perspiration  stood 
amid  new  wrinkles  upon  her  forehead.  Weav- 
ing wild  glances  from  side  to  side,  she  began 
to  whimper.  "  Oh,  I'm  just  sick — I'm  just 
sick !  Have  those  men  gone  yet  ?  Have  they 
gone?" 

The  girl  smoothed  a  pillow  carefully  for  her 
mother's  head.  "  No,  ma.  They're  here  yet. 
But  they  haven't  hurt  anything — it  doesn't 
seem.  Will  I  get  you  something  to  eat?" 

Her  mother  gestured  her  away  with  the  im- 


76  THREE  MIRACULOUS  SOLDIERS. 

patience  of  the  ill.  "  No — no — just  don't  bother 
me.  My  head  is  splitting,  and  you  know  very 
well  that  nothing  can  be  done  for  me  when  I 
get  one  of  these  spells.  It's  trouble — that's 
what  makes  them.  When  are  those  men  go- 
ing? Look  here,  don't  you  go  'way.  You 
stick  close  to  the  house  now." 

"  I'll  stay  right  here,"  said  the  girl.  She 
sat  in  the  gloom  and  listened  to  her  mother's 
incessant  moaning.  When  she  attempted  to 
move,  her  mother  cried  out  at  her.  When  she 
desired  to  ask  if  she  might  try  to  alleviate  the 
pain,  she  was  interrupted  shortly.  Somehow 
her  sitting  in  passive  silence  within  hearing  of 
this  illness  seemed  to  contribute  to  her  mother's 
relief.  She  assumed  a  posture  of  submission. 
Sometimes  her  mother  projected  questions 
concerning  the  local  condition,  and  although 
she  laboured  to  be  graphic  and  at  the  same 
time  soothing,  unalarming,  her  form  of  reply 
was  always  displeasing  to  the  sick  woman, 
and  brought  forth  ejaculations  of  angry  impa- 
tience. 


THREE   MIRACULOUS   SOLDIERS.  77 

Eventually  the  woman  slept  iii  the  manner 
of  one  worn  from  terrible  labour.  The  girl 
went  slowly  and  softly  to  the  kitchen.  When 
she  looked  from  the  window,  she  saw  the  four 
soldiers  still  at  the  barn  door.  In  the  west, 
the  sky  was  yellow.  Some  tree  trunks  inter- 
secting- it  appeared  black  as  streaks  of  ink. 
Soldiers  hovered  in  blue  clouds  about  the 
bright  splendour  of  the  fires  in  the  orchard. 
There  were  glimmers  of  steel. 

The  girl  sat  in  the  new  gloom  of  the 
kitchen  and  watched.  The  soldiers  lit  a  lan- 
tern and  hung  it  in  the  barn.  Its  rays  made 
the  form  of  the  sentry  seem  gigantic.  Horses 
whinnied  from  the  orchard.  There  was  a  low 
hum  of  human  voices.  Sometimes  small  de- 
tachments of  troopers  rode  past  the  front  of 
the  house.  The  girl  heard  the  abrupt  calls  of 
sentries.  She  fetched  some  food  and  ate  it 
from  her  hand,  standing  by  the  window.  She 
was  so  afraid  that  something  would  occur 
that  she  barely  left  her  post  for  an  instant. 

A  picture  of  the  interior  of  the  barn  hung 


78  THREE   MIRACULOUS   SOLDIERS. 

vividly  in  her  mind.  She  recalled  the  knot- 
holes in  the  boards  at  the  rear,  but  she  ad- 
mitted that  the  prisoners  could  not  escape 
through  them.  She  remembered  some  inade- 
quacies of  the  roof,  but  these  also  counted  for 
nothing.  When  confronting  the  problem,  she 
felt  her  ambitions,  her  ideals  tumbling  head- 
long like  cottages  of  straw. 

Once  she  felt  that  she  had  decided  to 
reconnoitre  at  any  rate.  It  was  night ;  the 
lantern  at  the  barn  and  the  camp  fires  made 
everything  without  their  circle  into  masses  of 
heavy  mystic  blackness.  She  took  two  steps 
toward  the  door.  But  there  she  paused.  In- 
numerable possibilities  of  danger  had  assailed 
her  mind.  She  returned  to  the  window  and 
stood  wavering.  At  last,  she  went  swiftly  to 
the  door,  opened  it,  and  slid  noiselessly  into 
the  darkness. 

For  a  moment  she  regarded  the  shadows. 
Down  in  the  orchard  the  camp  fires  of  the 
troops  appeared  precisely  like  a  great  paint- 
ing, all  in  reds  upon  a  black  cloth.  The 


THREE   MIRACULOUS   SOLDIERS. 


79 


voices  of  the  troopers  still  hummed.  The  girl 
started  slowly  off  in  the  opposite  direction. 
Her  eyes  were  fixed  in  a  stare ;  she  studied 
the  darkness  in  front  for  a  moment,  before 
she  ventured  upon  a  forward  step.  Uncon- 
sciously, her  throat  was  arranged  for  a  sud- 
den shrill  scream.  High  in  the  tree  branches 
she  could  hear  the  voice  of  the  wind,  a  mel- 
ody of  the  night,  low  and  sad,  the  plaint  of  an 
endless,  incommunicable  sorrow.  Her  own 
distress,  the  plight  of  the  men  in  gray — these 
near  matters  as  well  as  all  she  had  known  or 
imagined  of  grief — everything  was  expressed 
in  this  soft  mourning  of  the  wind  in  the  trees. 
At  first  she  felt  like  weeping.  This  sound  told 
her  of  human  impotency  and  doom.  Then 
later  the  trees  and  the  wind  breathed  strength 
to  her,  sang  of  sacrifice,  of  dauntless  effort,  of 
hard  carven  faces  that  did  not  blanch  when 
Duty  came  at  midnight  or  at  noon. 

She  turned  often  to  scan  the  shadowy  fig- 
ures that  moved  from  time  to  time  in  the 
light  at  the  barn  door.  Once  she  trod  upon  a 


80  THREE   MIRACULOUS   SOLDIERS. 

stick,  and  it  flopped,  crackling  in  the  intolera- 
ble manner  of  all  sticks.  At  this  noise,  how- 
ever, the  guards  at  the  barn  made  no  sign. 
Finally,  she  was  where  she  could  see  the  knot- 
holes in  the  rear  of  the  structure  gleaming  like 
pieces  of  metal  from  the  effect  of  the  light 
within.  Scarcely  breathing  in  her  excitement 
she  glided  close  and  applied  an  eye  to  a  knot- 
hole. She  had  barely  achieved  one  glance  at 
the  interior  before  she  sprang  back  shudder- 
ing. 

For  the  unconscious  and  cheerful  sentry  at 
the  door  was  swearing  away  in  flaming  sen- 
tences, heaping  one  gorgeous  oath  upon  an- 
other, making  a  conflagration  of  his  descrip- 
tion of  his  troop  horse. 

"  Why,"  he  was  declaring  to  the  calm  pris- 
oner in  gray,  "  you  ain't  got  a  horse  in  your 
hull  -  -  army  that  can  run  forty  rod  with 
that  there  little  mar' !" 

As  in  the  outer  darkness  Mary  cautiously 
returned  to  the  knothole,  the  three  guards  in 
front  suddenly  called  in  low  tones  :  "  S-s-s-h  !  " 


THREE  MIRACULOUS  SOLDIERS.  8 1 

"  Quit,  Pete ;  here  comes  the  lieutenant."  The 
sentry  had  apparently  been  about  to  resume 
his  declamation,  but  at  these  warnings  he  sud- 
denly posed  in  a  soldierly  manner. 

A  tall  and  lean  officer  with  a  smooth  face 
entered  the  barn.  The  sentry  saluted  primly. 
The  officer  flashed  a  comprehensive  glance 
about  him.  "  Everything  all  right  ?  " 

"  All  right,  sir." 

This  officer  had  eyes  like  the  points  of 
stilettos.  The  lines  from  his  nose  to  the  cor- 
ners of  his  mouth  were  deep  and  gave  him  a 
slightly  disagreeable  aspect,  but  somewhere 
in  his  face  there  was  a  quality  of  singular 
thoughtfulness,  as  of  the  absorbed  student 
dealing  in  generalities,  which  was  utterly  in 
opposition  to  the  rapacious  keenness  of  the 
eyes  which  saw  everything. 

Suddenly  he  lifted  a  long  finger  and 
pointed.  "  What's  that  ?  " 

"  That  ?    That's  a  feed  box,  I  suppose." 

"What's  in  it?" 

"  I  don't  know.     I " 


82  THREE  MIRACULOUS  SOLDIERS. 

"  You  ought  to  know/'  said  the  officer 
sharply.  He  walked  over  to  the  feed  box  and 
flung  up  the  lid.  With  a  sweeping  gesture, 
he  reached  down  and  scooped  a  handful  of 
feed.  "  You  ought  to  know  what's  in  every- 
thing when  you  have  prisoners  in  your  care," 
he  added,  scowling. 

During  the  time  of  this  incident,  the  girl 
had  nearly  swooned.  Her  hands  searched 
weakly  over  the  boards  for  something  to 
which  to  cling.  With  the  pallor  of  the  dying 
she  had  watched  the  downward  sweep  of  the 
officer's  arm,  which  after  all  had  only  brought 
forth  a  handful  of  feed.  The  result  was  a 
stupefaction  of  her  mind.  She  was  astonished 
out  of  her  senses  at  this  spectacle  of  three 
large  men  metamorphosed  into  a  handful  of 
feed. 

IV. 

IT  is  perhaps  a  singular  thing  that  this 
absence  of  the  three  men  from  the  feed  box 
at  the  time  of  the  sharp  lieutenant's  investi- 


THREE  MIRACULOUS  SOLDIERS.  83 

gallon  should  terrify  the  girl  more  than  it 
should  joy  her.  That  for  which  she  had 
prayed  had  come  to  pass.  Apparently  the 
escape  of  these  men  in  the  face  of  every  im- 
probability had  been  granted  her,  but  her 
dominating  emotion  was  fright.  The  feed 
box  was  a  mystic  and  terrible  machine,  like 
some  dark  magician's  trap.  She  felt  it  almost 
possible,  that  she  should  see  the  three  weird 
men  floating  spectrally  away  through  the 
air.  She  glanced  with  swift  apprehension 
behind  her,  and  when  the  dazzle  from  the 
lantern's  light  had  left  her  eyes,  saw  only 
the  dim  hillside  stretched  in  solemn  silence. 

The  interior  of  the  barn  possessed  for  her 
another  fascination  because  it  was  now  un- 
canny. It  contained  that  extraordinary  feed 
box.  When  she  peeped  again  at  the  knot- 
hole, the  calm,  gray  prisoner  was  seated  upon 
the  feed  box,  thumping  it  with  his  dangling, 
careless  heels  as  if  it  were  in  nowise  his  con- 
ception of  a  remarkable  feed-box.  The  sen- 
try also  stood  facing  it.  His  carbine  he  held 


84  THREE   MIRACULOUS  SOLDIERS. 

in  the  hollow  of  his  arm.  His  legs  were 
spread  apart,  and  he  mused.  From  without 
came  the  low  mumble  of  the  three  other 
troopers.  The  sharp  lieutenant  had  van- 
ished. 

The  trembling  yellow  light  of  the  lantern 
caused  the  figures  of  the  men  to  cast  mon- 
strous wavering  shadows.  There  were  spaces 
of  gloom  which  shrouded  ordinary  things 
in  impressive  garb.  The  roof  presented  an 
inscrutable  blackness,  save  where  small  rifts 
in  the  shingles  glowed  phosphorescently. 
Frequently  old  Santo  put  down  a  thunderous 
hoof.  The  heels  of  the  prisoner  made  a 
sound  like  the  booming  of  a  wild  kind  of 
drum.  When  the  men  moved  their  heads, 
their  eyes  shone  with  ghoulish  whiteness,  and 
their  complexions  were  always  waxen  and 
unreal.  And  there  was  that  profoundly 
strange  feed  box,  imperturbable  with  its  bur- 
den of  fantastic  mystery. 

Suddenly  from  down  near  her  feet  the 
girl  heard  a  crunching  sound,  a  sort  of  a  nib- 


THREE   MIRACULOUS  SOLDIERS.  85 

bling,  as  if  some  silent  and  very  discreet 
terrier  was  at  work  upon  the  turf.  She 
faltered  back ;  here  was  no  doubt  another  gro- 
tesque detail  of  this  most  unnatural  episode. 
She  did  not  run,  because  physically  she  was 
in  the  power  of  these  events.  Her  feet 
chained  her  to  the  ground  in  submission  to 
this  march  of  terror  after  terror.  As  she 
stared  at  the  spot  from  which  this  sound 
seemed  to  come,  there  floated  through  her 
mind  a  vague,  sweet  vision— a  vision  of  her 
safe  little  room,  in  which  at  this  hour  she 
usually  was  sleeping. 

The  scratching  continued  faintly  and  with 
frequent  pauses,  as  if  the  terrier  was  then 
listening.  When  the  girl  first  removed  her 
eyes  from  the  knothole  the  scene  appeared 
of  one  velvet  blackness ;  then  gradually  ob- 
jects loomed  with  a  dim  lustre.  She  could 
see  now  where  the  tops  of  the  trees  joined 
the  sky  and  the  form  of  the  barn  was  before 
her  dyed  in  heavy  purple.  She  was  ever 
about  to  shriek,  but  no  sound  came  from  her 


86  THREE   MIRACULOUS  SOLDIERS. 

constricted  throat.  She  gazed  at  the  ground 
with  the  expression  of  countenance  of  one 
who  watches  the  sinister-moving  grass  where 
a  serpent  approaches. 

Dimly  she  saw  a  piece  of  sod  wrenched 
free  and  drawn  under  the  great  foundation 
beam  of  the  barn.  Once  she  imagined  that 
she  saw  human  hands,  not  outlined  at  all,  but 
sufficient  in  colour,  form,  or  movement  to 
make  subtle  suggestion. 

Then  suddenly  a  thought  that  illuminated 
the  entire  situation  flashed  in  her  mind  like 
a  light.  The  three  men,  late  of  the  feed  box, 
were  beneath  the  floor  of  the  barn  and  were 
now  scraping  their  way  under  this  beam. 
She  did  not  consider  for  a  moment  how 
they  could  come  there.  They  were  marvel- 
lous creatures.  The  supernatural  was  to  be 
expected  of  them.  She  no  longer  trembled, 
for  she  was  possessed  upon  this  instant  of  the 
most  unchangeable  species  of  conviction.  The 
evidence  before  her  amounted  to  no  evidence 
at  all,  but  nevertheless  her  opinion  grew  in 


THREE   MIRACULOUS  SOLDIERS.  8/ 

an  instant  from  an  irresponsible  acorn  to  a 
rooted  and  immovable  tree.  It  was  as  if  she 
was  on  a  jury. 

She  stooped  down  hastily  and  scanned 
the  ground.  There  she  indeed  saw  a  pair  of 
hands  hauling  at  the  dirt  where  the  sod  had 
been  displaced.  Softly,  in  a  whisper  like  a 
breath,  she  said,  "  Hey  ! " 

The  dim  hands  were  drawn  hastily  under 
the  barn.  The  girl  reflected  for  a  moment. 
Then  she  stooped  and  whispered :  "  Hey ! 
It's  me!" 

After  a  time  there  was  a  resumption  of 
the  digging.  The  ghostly  hands  begaji  once 
more  their  cautious  mining.  She  waited.  In 
hollow  reverberations  from  the  interior  of 
the  barn  came  the  frequent  sounds  of  old 
Santo's  lazy  movements.  The  sentry  con- 
versed with  the  prisoner. 

At  last  the  girl  saw  a  head  thrust  slowly 
from  under  the  beam.  She  perceived  the 
face  of  one  of  the  miraculous  soldiers  from 
the  feed  box.  A  pair  of  eyes  glintered  and 


88  THREE   MIRACULOUS   SOLDIERS. 

wavered,  then  finally  settled  upon  her,  a  pale 
statue  of  a  girl.  The  eyes  became  lit  with  a 
kind  of  humorous  greeting.  An  arm  ges- 
tured at  her. 

Stooping,  she  breathed,  "  All  right."  The 
man  drew  himself  silently  back  under  the 
beam.  A  moment  later  the  pair  of  hands  re- 
sumed their  cautious  task.  Ultimately  the 
head  and  arms  of  the  man  were  thrust 
strangely  from  the  earth.  He  was  lying  on 
his  back.  The  girl  thought  of  the  dirt  in 
his  hair.  Wriggling  slowly  and  pushing  at 
the  beam  above  him  he  forced  his  way 
out  of  the  curious  little  passage.  He  twist- 
ed his  body  and  raised  himself  upon  his 
hands.  He  grinned  at  the  girl  and  drew  his 
feet  carefully  from  under  the  beam.  When 
he  at  last  stood  erect  beside  her,  he  at  once 
began  mechanically  to  brush  the  dirt  from 
his  clothes  with  his  hands.  In  the  barn  the 
sentry  and  his  prisoner  were  evidently  en- 
gaged in  an  argument. 

The  girl  and  the   first  miraculous  soldier 


THREE  MIRACULOUS  SOLDIERS.  89 

signalled  warily.  It  seemed  that  they  feared 
that  their  arms  would  make  noises  in  passing 
through  the  air.  Their  lips  moved,  convey- 
ing dim  meanings. 

In  this  sign  language  the  girl  described 
the  situation  in  the  barn.  With  guarded  mo- 
tions, she  told  him  of  the  importance  of  abso- 
lute stillness.  He  nodded,  and  then  in  the 
same  manner  he  told  her  of  his  two  compan- 
ions under  the  barn  floor.  He  informed  her 
again  of  their  wounded  state,  and  wagged  his 
head  to  express  his  despair.  He  contorted  his 
face,  to  tell  how  sore  were  their  arms  ;  and 
jabbed  the  air  mournfully,  to  express  their  re- 
mote geographical  position. 

This  signalling  was  interrupted  by  the 
sound  of  a  body  being  dragged  or  dragging 
itself  with  slow,  swishing  sound  under  the 
barn.  The  sound  was  too  loud  for  safety. 
They  rushed  to  the  hole  and  began  to  sema- 
phore until  a  shaggy  head  appeared  with  roll- 
ing eyes  and  quick  grin. 

With  frantic  downward  motions   of  their 


QO  THREE   MIRACULOUS   SOLDIERS. 

arms  they  suppressed  this  grin  and  with  it 
the  swishing  noise.  In  dramatic  pantomime 
they  informed  this  head  of  the  terrible  conse- 
quences of  so  much  noise.  The  head  nodded, 
and  painfully  but  with  extreme  care  the  sec- 
ond man  pushed  and  pulled  himself  from  the 
hole. 

In  a  faint  whisper  the  first  man  said, 
"  Where's  Sim  ?  " 

The  second  man  made  low  reply.  "  He's 
right  here."  He  motioned  reassuringly  to- 
ward the  hole. 

When  the  third  head  appeared,  a  soft  smile 
of  glee  came  upon  each  face,  and  the  mute 
group  exchanged  expressive  glances. 

When  they  all  stood  together,  free  from 
this  tragic  barn,  they  breathed  a  long  sigh 
that  was  contemporaneous  with  another  smile 
and  another  exchange  of  glances. 

One  of  the  men  tiptoed  to  a  knothole  and 
peered  into  the  barn.  The  sentry  was  at  that 
moment  speaking.  "Yes,  we  know  'em  all. 
There  isn't  a  house  in  this  region  that  we 


THREE  MIRACULOUS  SOLDIERS.  gi 

don't  know  who  is  in  it  most  of  the  time.  We 
collar  'em  once  in  a  while — like  we  did  you. 
Now,  that  house  out  yonder,  we " 

The  man  suddenly  left  the  knothole  and 
returned  to  the  others.  Upon  his  face,  dimly 
discerned,  there  was  an  indication  that  he  had 
made  an  astonishing  discovery.  The  others 
questioned  him  with  their  eyes,  but  he  simply 
waved  an  arm  to  express  his  inability  to  speak 
at  that  spot.  He  led  them  back  toward  the 
hill,  prowling  carefully.  At  a  safe  distance 
from  the  barn  he  halted  and  as  they  grouped 
eagerly  about  him,  he  exploded  in  an  intense 
undertone  :  "  Why,  that— that's  Cap'n  Saw- 
yer they  got  in  yonder." 

"  Cap'n  Sawyer !  "  incredulously  whispered 
the  other  men. 

But  the  girl  had  something  to  ask.  "  How 
did  you  get  out  of  that  feed  box?"  He 
smiled.  "  Well,  when  you  put  us,  in  there,  we 
was  just  in  a  minute  when  we  allowed  it 
wasn't  a  mighty  safe  place,  and  we  allowed 
we'd  get  out.  And  we  did.  We  skedaddled 


92 


THREE   MIRACULOUS  SOLDIERS. 


'round  and  'round  until  it  'peared  like  we  was 
going  to  get  cotched,  and  then  we  flung  our- 
selves down  in  the  cow  stalls  where  it's  low- 
like — just  dirt  floor — and  then  we  just  naturally 
went  a-whooping  under  the  barn  floor  when 
the  Yanks  come.  And  we  didn't  know  Cap'n 
Sawyer  by  his  voice  nohow.  We  heard  'im 
discoursing,  and  we  allowed  it  was  a  mighty 
pert  man,  but  we  didn't  know  that  it  was  him. 
No,  m'm." 

These  three  men,  so  recently  from  a  sit- 
uation of  peril,  seemed  suddenly  to  have 
dropped  all  thought  of  it.  They  stood  with 
sad  faces  looking  at  the  barn.  They  seemed 
to  be  making  no  plans  at  all  to  reach  a 
place  of  more  complete  safety.  They  were 
halted  and  stupefied  by  some  unknown  ca- 
lamity. 

"  How  do  you  raikon  they  cotch  him, 
Sim  ?  "  one  whispered  mournfully. 

"  I  don't  know,"  replied  another,  in  the 
same  tone. 

Another  with  a  low  snarl  expressed  in  two 


THREE   MIRACULOUS   SOLDIERS.  93 

words  his  opinion  of  the  methods  of  Fate : 
"  Oh,  hell !" 

The  three  men  started  then  as  if  simultane- 
ously stung  and  gazed  at  the  young  girl  who 
stood  silently  near  them.  The  man  who  had 
sworn  began  to  make  agitated  apology :  "  Par- 
don, miss !  'Pon  my  soul  I  clean  forgot  you 
was  by.  'Deed,  and  I  wouldn't  swear  like 
that  if  I  had  knowed.  'Deed,  I  wouldn't." 

The  girl  did  not  seem  to  hear  him.  She 
was  staring  at  the  barn.  Suddenly  she  turned 
and  whispered,  "  Who  is  he?" 

"  He's  Cap'n  Sawyer,  m'm,"  they  told  her 
sorrowfully.  "  He's  our  own  cap'n.  He's 
been  in  command  of  us  yere  since  a  long  time. 
He's  got  folks  about  yere.  Raikon  they  cotch 
him  while  he  was  a-visiting." 

She  was  still  for  a  time  and  then,  awed, 
she  said,  "  Will  they— will  they  hang  him  ?  " 

"  No,  m'm.  Oh,  no,  m'm.  Don't  raikon  no 
such  thing.  No,  m'm." 

The  group  became  absorbed  in  a  contem- 
plation of  the  barn.  For  a  time  no  one  moved 


Q4  THREE  MIRACULOUS  SOLDIERS. 

nor  spoke.  At  last  the  girl  was  aroused  by 
slight  sounds,  and  turning,  she  perceived  that 
the  three  men  who  had  so  recently  escaped 
from  the  barn  were  now  advancing  toward  it. 


V. 

THE  girl,  waiting  in  the  darkness,  expected 
to  hear  the  sudden  crash  and  uproar  of  a  fight 
as  soon  as  the  three  creeping  men  should 
reach  the  barn.  She  reflected  in  an  agony 
upon  the  swift  disaster  that  would  befall  any 
enterprise  so  desperate.  She  had  an  impulse 
to  beg  them  to  come  away.  The  grass 
rustled  in  silken  movements  as  she  sped  to- 
ward the  barn. 

When  she  arrived,  however,  she  gazed 
about  her  bewildered.  The  men  were  gone. 
She  searched  with  her  eyes,  trying  to  de- 
tect some  moving  thing,  but  she  could  see 
nothing. 

Left  alone  again,  she  began  to  be  afraid  of 
the  night.  The  great  stretches  of  darkness 


THREE  MIRACULOUS  SOLDIERS.  95 

could  hide  crawling  dangers.  From  sheer 
desire  to  see  a  human,  she  was  obliged  to 
peep  again  at  the  knothole.  The  sentry  had 
apparently  wearied  of  talking.  Instead,  he 
was  reflecting.  The  prisoner  still  sat  on  the 
feed  box,  moodily  staring  at  the  floor.  The 
girl  felt  in  one  way  that  she  was  looking  at  a 
ghastly  group  in  wax.  She  started  when  the 
old  horse  put  down  an  echoing  hoof.  She 
wished  the  men  would  speak;  their  silence 
re-enforced  the  strange  aspect.  They  might 
have  been  two  dead  men. 

The  girl  felt  impelled  to  look  at  the  corner 
of  the  interior  where  were  the  cow  stalls. 
There  was  no  light  there  save  the  appearance 
of  peculiar  gray  haze  which  marked  the  track 
of  the  dimming  rays  of  the  lantern.  All  else 
was  sombre  shadow.  At  last  she  saw  some- 
thing move  there.  It  might  have  been  as 
small  as  a  rat,  or  it  might  have  been  a  part  of 
something  as  large  as  a  man.  At  any  rate,  it 
proclaimed  that  something  in  that  spot  was 
alive.  At  one  time  she  saw  it  plainly  and  at 


96  THREE   MIRACULOUS   SOLDIERS. 

other  times  it  vanished,  because  her  fixture 
of  gaze  caused  her  occasionally  to  greatly 
tangle  and  blur  those  peculiar  shadows  and 
faint  lights.  At  last,  however,  she  perceived 
a  human  head.  It  was  monstrously  dishev- 
elled and  wild.  It  moved  slowly  forward 
until  its  glance  could  fall  upon  the  prisoner 
and  then  upon  the  sentry.  The  wandering 
rays  caused  the  eyes  to  glitter  like  silver. 
The  girl's  heart  pounded  so  that  she  put  her 
hand  over  it 

The  sentry  and  the  prisoner  remained  im- 
movably waxen,  and  over  in  the  gloom  the 
head  thrust  from  the  floor  watched  them  with 
its  silver  eyes. 

Finally,  the  prisoner  slipped  from  the  feed 
box,  and,  raising  his  arms,  yawned  at  great 
length.  "Oh,  well,"  he  remarked,  "you  boys 
will  get  a  good  licking  if  you  fool  around  here 
much  longer.  That's  some  satisfaction,  any- 
how, even  if  you  did  bag  me.  You'll  get  a 
good  walloping."  He  reflected  for  a  moment, 
and  decided :  "  I'm  sort  of  willing  to  be  cap- 


THREE   MIRACULOUS   SOLDIERS. 


97 


tured  if  you  fellows  only  get  a  d d  good 

licking  for  being  so  smart." 

The  sentry  looked  up  and  smiled  a  supe- 
rior smile.  "  Licking,  hey  ?  Nixey !  "  He 
winked  exasperatingly  at  the  prisoner.  "  You 
fellows  are  not  fast  enough,  my  boy.  Why 

didn't  you  lick  us  at ?  and  at ?  and 

at  ?"  He  named  some  ,of  the  great 

battles. 

To  this  the  captive  officer  blurted  in  angry 
astonishment,  "  Why,  we  did  ! " 

The  sentry  winked  again  in  profound 
irony.  "Yes — I  know  you  did.  Of  course. 
You  whipped  us,  didn't  you  ?  Fine  kind  of 
whipping  that  was  !  Why,  we " 

He  suddenly  ceased,  smitten  mute  by  a 
sound  that  broke  the  stillness  of  the  night.  It 
was  the  sharp  crack  of  a  distant  shot  that 
made  wild  echoes  among  the  hills.  It  was 
instantly  followed  by  the  hoarse  cry  of  a 
human  voice,  a  far-away  yell  of  warning, 
singing  of  surprise,  peril,  fear  of  death.  A 
moment  later  there  was  a  distant,  fierce  spat- 


98  THREE  MIRACULOUS  SOLDIERS. 

tering  of  shots.  The  sentry  and  the  prisoner 
stood  facing  each  other,  their  lips  apart,  listen- 
ing. 

The  orchard  at  that  instant  awoke  to  sud- 
den tumult.  There  were  the  thud  and  scram- 
ble and  scamper  of  feet,  the  mellow,  swift 
clash  of  arms,  men's  voices  in  question,  oath, 
command,  hurried  and  unhurried,  resolute 
and  frantic.  A  horse  sped  along  the  road  at  a 
raging  gallop.  A  loud  voice  shouted,  "  What 
is  it,  Ferguson?"  Another  voice  yelled 
something  incoherent.  There  was  a  sharp, 
discordant  chorus  of  command.  An  uproari- 
ous volley  suddenly  rang  from  the  orchard. 
The  prisoner  in  gray  moved  from  his  intent, 
listening  attitude.  Instantly  the  eyes  of  the 
sentry  blazed,  and  he  said  with  a  new  and 
terrible  sternness,  "  Stand  where  you  are  !  " 

The  prisoner  trembled  in  his  excitement. 
Expressions  of  delight  and  triumph  bubbled 
to  his  lips.  "  A  surprise,  by  Gawd  !  Now — 
now,  you'll  see ! " 

The  sentry  stolidly  swung   his  carbine  to 


THREE  MIRACULOUS  SOLDIERS. 


99 


his  shoulder.  He  sighted  carefully  along  the 
barrel  until  it  pointed  at  the  prisoner's  head, 
about  at  his  nose.  "  Well,  I've  got  you,  any- 
how. Remember  that !  Don't  move ! " 

The  prisoner  could  not  keep  his  arms  from 
nervously  gesturing.  "  I  won't ;  but " 

"  And  shut  your  mouth  !  " 

The  three  comrades  of  the  sentry  flung 
themselves  into  view.  "  Pete — devil  of  a 
row  ! — can  you " 

"  I've  got  him,"  said  the  sentry  calmly  and 
without  moving.  It  was  as  if  the  barrel  of 
the  carbine  rested  on  piers  of  stone.  The 
three  comrades  turned  and  plunged  into  the 
darkness. 

In  the  orchard  it  seemed  as  if  two  gigantic 
animals  were  engaged  in  a  mad,  floundering 
encounter,  snarling,  howling  in  a  whirling 
chaos  of  noise  and  motion.  In  the  barn  the 
prisoner  and  his  guard  faced  each  other  in 
silence. 

As  for  the  girl  at  the  knothole,  the  sky  had 
fallen  at  the  beginning  of  this  clamour.  She 


100          THREE   MIRACULOUS   SOLDIERS. 

would  not  have  been  astonished  to  see  the 
stars  swinging  from  their  abodes,  and  the 
vegetation,  the  barn,  all  blow  away.  It  was 
the  end  of  everything,  the  grand  universal 
murder.  When  two  of  the  three  miraculous 
soldiers  who  formed  the  original  feed-box 
corps  emerged  in  detail  from  the  hole  under 
the  beam  and  slid  away  into  the  darkness,  she 
did  no  more  than  glance  at  them. 

Suddenly  she  recollected  the  head  with 
silver  eyes.  She  started  forward  and  again 
applied  her  eyes  to  the  knot  hole.  Even  with 
the  din  resounding  from  the  orchard,  from  up 
the  road  and  down  the  road,  from  the  heavens 
and  from  the  deep  earth,  the  central  fascina- 
tion was  this  mystic  head.  There,  to  her,  was 
the  dark  god  of  the  tragedy. 

The  prisoner  in  gray  at  this  moment  burst 
into  a  laugh  that  was  no  more  than  a  hyster- 
ical gurgle.  "  Well,  you  can't  hold  that  gun 
out  forever !  Pretty  soon  you'll  have  to 
lower  it." 

The  sentry's  voice  sounded  slightly  muf- 


THREE  MIRACULOUS  SOLDIERS.  IOI 

fled,  for  his  cheek  was  pressed  against  the 
weapon.  "I  won't  be  tired  for  some  time 
yet" 

The  girl  saw  the  head  slowly  rise,  the  eyes 
fixed  upon  the  sentry's  face.  A  tall,  black  fig- 
ure slunk  across  the  cow  stalls  and  vanished 
back  of  old  Santo's  quarters.  She  knew  what 
was  to  come  to  pass.  She  knew  this  grim 
thing  was  upon  a  terrible  mission,  and  that  it 
would  reappear  again  at  the  head  of  the  little 
passage  between  Santo's  stall  and  the  wall, 
almost  at  the  sentry's  elbow ;  and  yet  when 
she  saw  a  faint  indication  as  of  a  form  crouch- 
ing there,  a  scream  from  an  utterly  new  alarm 
almost  escaped  her. 

The  sentry's  arms,  after  all,  were  not  of 
granite.  He  moved  restively.  At  last  he 
spoke  in  his  even,  unchanging  tone  :  "  Well,  I 
guess  you'll  have  to  climb  into  that  feed  box. 
Step  back  and  lift  the  lid." 

"  Why,  you  don't  mean " 

"  Step  back !  " 

The  girl  felt  a  cry  of  warning  arising  to 


102          THREE   MIRACULOUS  SOLDIERS. 

her  lips  as  she  gazed  at  this  sentry.  She 
noted  every  detail  of  his  facial  expression. 
She  saw,  moreover,  his  mass  of  brown  hair 
bunching  disgracefully  about  his  ears,  his 
clear  eyes  lit  now  with  a  hard,  cold  light,  his 
forehead  puckered  in  a  mighty  scowl,  the  ring 
upon  the  third  finger  of  the  left  hand.  "  Oh, 
they  won't  kill  him !  Surely  they  won't  kill 
him  !  "  The  noise  of  the  fight  in  the  orchard 
was  the  loud  music,  the  thunder  and  light- 
ning, the  rioting  of  the  tempest  which  people 
love  during  the  critical  scene  of  a  tragedy. 

When  the  prisoner  moved  back  in  reluc- 
tant obedience,  he  faced  for  an  instant  the  en- 
trance of  the  little  passage,  and  what  he  saw 
there  must  have  been  written  swiftly,  graphi- 
cally in  his  eyes.  And  the  sentry  read  it  and 
knew  then  that  he  was  upon  the  threshold  of 
his  death.  In  a  fraction  of  time,  certain  infor- 
mation went  from  the  grim  thing  in  the  pas- 
sage to  the  prisoner,  and  from  the  prisoner  to 
the  sentry.  But  at  that  instant  the  black  for- 
midable figure  arose,  towered,  and  made  its 


THREE  MIRACULOUS  SOLDIERS.  103 

leap.  A  new  shadow  flashed  across  the  floor 
when  the  blow  was  struck. 

As  for  the  girl  at  the  knot  hole,  when  she 
returned  to  sense  she  found  herself  standing 
with  clinched  hands  and  screaming  with  her 
might. 

As  if  her  reason  had  again  departed  from 
her,  she  ran  around  the  barn,  in  at  the  door, 
and  flung  herself  sobbing  beside  the  body  of 
the  soldier  in  blue. 

The  uproar  of  the  fight  became  at  last  co- 
herent, inasmuch  as  one  party  was  giving 
shouts  of  supreme  exultation.  The  firing  no 
longer  sounded  in  crashes;  it  was  now  ex- 
pressed in  spiteful  crackles,  the  last  words  of 
the  combat,  spoken  with  feminine  vindictive- 
ness. 

Presently  there  was  a  thud  of  flying  feet. 
A  grimy  panting,  red-faced  mob  of  troopers  in 
blue  plunged  into  the  barn,  became  instantly 
frozen  to  attitudes  of  amazement  and  rage,  and 
then  roared  in  one  great  chorus,  "  He's 
gone ! " 


104 


THREE  MIRACULOUS  SOLDIERS. 


The  girl  who  knelt  beside  the  body  upon 
the  floor  turned  toward  them  her  lamenting 
eyes  and  cried :  "  He's  not  dead,  is  he  ?  He 
can't  be  dead?" 

They  thronged  forward.  The  sharp  lieu- 
tenant who  had  been  so  particular  about  the 
feed  box  knelt  by  the  side  of  the  girl  and  laid 
his  head  against  the  chest  of  the  prostrate  sol- 
dier. "  Why,  no,"  he  said,  rising  and  looking 
at  the  man.  "  He's  all  right.  Some  of  you 
boys  throw  some  water  on  him." 

"  Are  you  sure  ? "  demanded  the  girl,  fe- 
verishly. 

"  Of  course  !  He'll  be  better  after 
awhile." 

"Oh!"  said  she  softly,  and  then  looked 
down  at  the  sentry.  She  started  to  arise,  and 
the  lieutenant  reached  down  and  hoisted 
rather  awkwardly  at  her  arm. 

"  Don't  you  worry  about  him.  He's  all 
right- 
She  turned  her  face  with  its  curving  lips 
and  shining  eyes  once  more  toward  the  uncon- 


THREE   MIRACULOUS   SOLDIERS. 


105 


scious  soldier  upon  the  floor.  The  troopers 
made  a  lane  to  the  door,  the  lieutenant  bowed, 
the  girl  vanished. 

"  Queer,"  said  a  young  officer.  "  Girl  very 
clearly  worst  kind  of  rebel,  and  yet  she  falls 
to  weeping  and  wailing  like  mad  over  one  of 
her  enemies.  Be  around  in  the  morning  with 
all  sorts  of  doctoring — you  see  if  she  ain't. 
Queer." 

The  sharp  lieutenant  shrugged  his  shoul- 
ders. After  reflection  he  shrugged  his  shoul- 
ders again.  He  said :  "  War  changes  many 
things;  but  it  doesn't  change  everything, 
thank  God !  " 


A  MYSTERY  OF  HEROISM. 


THE  dark  uniforms  of  the  men  were  so 
coated  with  dust  from  the  incessant  wrest- 
ling of  the  two  armies  that  the  regiment  al- 
most seemed  a  part  of  the  clay  bank  which 
shielded  them  from  the  shells.  On  the  top 
of  the  hill  a  battery  was  arguing  in  tre- 
mendous roars  with  some  other  guns,  and  to 
the  eye  of  the  infantry,  the  artillerymen,  the 
guns,  the  caissons,  the  horses,  were  distinctly 
outlined  upon  the  blue  sky.  When  a  piece 
was  fired,  a  red  streak  as  round  as  a  log 
flashed  low  in  the  heavens,  like  a  monstrous 
bolt  of  lightning.  The  men  of  the  battery 
wore  white  duck  trousers,  which  somehow 

emphasized   their  legs;   and   when   they  ran 
106 


A  MYSTERY  OF  HEROISM.  Io; 

and  crowded  in  little  groups  at  the  bidding 
of  the  shouting  officers,  it  was  more  impress- 
ive than  usual  to  the  infantry. 

Fred  Collins,  of  A  Company,  was  saying : 
"Thunder!  I  wisht  I  had  a  drink.  Ain't 
there  any  water  round  here  ?  "  Then  some- 
body yelled,  "  There  goes  th'  bugler  !  " 

As  the  eyes  of  half  the  regiment  swept 
in  one  machinelike  movement  there  was  an 
instant's  picture  of  a  horse  in  a  great  convul- 
sive leap  of  a  death  wound  and  a  rider 
leaning  back  with  a  crooked  arm  and  spread 
fingers  before  his  face.  On  the  ground  was 
the  crimson  terror  of  an  exploding  shell, 
with  fibres  of  flame  that  seemed  like  lances. 
A  glittering  bugle  swung  clear  of  the  rider's  . 
back  as  fell  headlong  the  horse  and  the  man. 
•  In  the  air  was  an  odour  as  from  a  conflagra- 
tion. 

Sometimes  they  of  the  infantry  looked 
down  at  a  fair  little  meadow  which  spread  at 
their  feet.  Its  long,  green  grass  was  rip- 
pling gently  in  a  breeze.  Beyond  it  was  the 


IO8  A  MYSTERY  OF   HEROISM. 

gray  form  of  a  house  half  torn  to  pieces  by 
shells  and  by  the  busy  axes  of  soldiers  who 
had  pursued  firewood.  The  line  of  an  old 
fence  was  now  dimly  marked  by  long  weeds 
and  by  an  occasional  post.  A  shell  had 
blown  the  well-house  to  fragments.  Little 
lines  of  gray  smoke  ribboning  upward  from 
some  embers  indicated  the  place  where  had 
stood  the  barn. 

From  beyond  a  curtain  of  green  woods 
there  came  the  sound  of  some  stupendous 
scuffle,  as  if  two  animals  of  the  size  of  islands 
were  fighting.  At  a  distance  there  were 
occasional  appearances  of  swift-moving  men, 
horses,  batteries,  flags,  and,  with  the  crash- 
ing of  infantry  volleys  were  heard,  often, 
wild  and  frenzied  cheers.  In  the  midst  of  it 
all  Smith  and  Ferguson,  two  privates  of  A 
Company,  were  engaged  in  a  heated  discus- 
sion, which  involved  the  greatest  questions 
of  the  national  existence. 

The  battery  on  the  hill  presently  engaged 
in  a  frightful  duel.  The  white  legs  of  the 


A  MYSTERY  OF   HEROISM. 

gunners  scampered  this  way  and  that  way, 
and  the  officers  redoubled  their  shouts.  The 
guns,  with  their  demeanours  of  stolidity  and 
courage,  were  typical  of  something  infinitely 
self-possessed  in  this  clamour  of  death  that 
swirled  around  the  hill. 

One  of  a  "  swing "  team  was  suddenly 
smitten  quivering  to  the  ground,  and  his 
maddened  brethren  dragged  his  torn  body 
in  their  struggle  to  escape  from  this  turmoil 
and  danger.  A  young  soldier  astride  one  of 
the  leaders  swore  and  fumed  in  his  saddle, 
and  furiously  jerked  at  the  bridle.  An  officer 
screamed  out  an  order  so  violently  that  his 
voice  broke  and  ended  the  sentence  in  a  fal- 
setto shriek. 

The  leading  company  of  the  infantry 
regiment  was  somewhat  exposed,  and  the 
colonel  ordered  it  moved  more  fully  under 
the  shelter  of  the  hill.  There  was  the  clank 
of  steel  against  steel. 

A  lieutenant  of  the  battery  rode  down 
and  passed  them,  holding  his  right  arm  care- 


IIO  A  MYSTERY  OF  HEROISM. 

fully  in  his  left  hand.  And  it  was  as  if  this 
arm  was  not  at  all  a  part  of  him,  but  belonged 
to  another  man.  His  sober  and  reflective 
charger  went  slowly.  The  officer's  face  was 
grimy  and  perspiring,  and  his  uniform  was 
tousled  as  if  he  had  been  in  direct  grapple 
with  an  enemy.  He  smiled  grimly  when  the 
men  stared  at  him.  He  turned  his  horse 
toward  the  meadow. 

Collins,  of  A  Company,  said :  "  I  wisht  I 
had  a  drink.  I  bet  there's  water  in  that  there 
ol*  well  yonder !  " 

"  Yes  ;  but  how  you  goin'  to  git  it  ?  " 
For  the  little  meadow  which  intervened 
was  now  suffering  a  terrible  onslaught  of 
shells.  Its  green  and  beautiful  calm  had  van- 
ished utterly.  Brown  earth  was  being  flung 
in  monstrous  handfuls.  And  there  was  a  mas- 
sacre of  the  young  blades  of  grass.  They 
were  being  torn,  burned,  obliterated.  Some 
curious  fortune  of  the  battle  had  made  this 
gentle  little  meadow  the  object  of  the  red  hate 
of  the  shells,  and  each  one  as  it  exploded 


A  MYSTERY  OF  HEROISM.  m 

seemed  like  an  imprecation  in  the  face  of  a 
maiden. 

The  wounded  officer  who  was  riding 
across  this  expanse  said  to  himself,  "Why, 
they  couldn't  shoot  any  harder  if  the  whole 
army  was  massed  here !  " 

A  shell  struck  the  gray  ruins  of  the  house, 
and  as,  after  the  roar,  the  shattered  wall  fell 
in  fragments,  there  was  a  noise  which  resem- 
bled the  flapping  of  shutters  during  a  wild 
gale  of  winter.  Indeed,  the  infantry  paused  in 
the  shelter  of  the  bank  appeared  as  men 
standing  upon  a  shore  contemplating  a  mad- 
ness of  the  sea.  The  angel  of  calamity  had 
under  its  glance  the  battery  upon  the  hill. 
Fewer  white-legged  men  laboured  about  the 
guns.  A  shell  had  smitten  one  of  the  pieces, 
and  after  the  flare,  the  smoke,  the  dust,  the 
wrath  of  this  blow  were  gone,  it  was  possible 
to  see  white  legs  stretched  horizontally  upon 
the  ground.  And  at  that  interval  to  the  rear, 
where  it  is  the  business  of  battery  horses  to 
stand  with  their  noses  to  the  fight  awaiting 


H2  A  MYSTERY  OF  HEROISM. 

the  command  to  drag  their  guns  out  of  the 
destruction  or  into  it  or  wheresoever  these  in- 
comprehensible humans  demanded  with  whip 
and  spur — in  this  line  of  passive  and  dumb 
spectators,  whose  fluttering  hearts  yet  would 
not  let  them  forget  the  iron  laws  of  man's  con- 
trol of  them — in  this  rank  of  brute-soldiers 
there  had  been  relentless  and  hideous  car- 
nage. From  the  ruck  of  bleeding  and  pros- 
trate horses,  the  men  of  the  infantry  could  see 
one  animal  raising  its  stricken  body  with  its 
fore  legs,  and  turning  its  nose  with  mystic  and 
profound  eloquence  toward  the  sky. 

Some  comrades  joked  Collins  about  his 
thirst.  "  Well,  if  yeh  want  a  drink  so  bad, 
why  don't  yeh  go  git  it !  " 

"  Well,  I  will  in  a  minnet,  if  yeh  don't  shut 
up!" 

A  lieutenant  of  artillery  floundered  his 
horse  straight  down  the  hill  with  as  great  con- 
cern as  if  it  were  level  ground.  As  he  gal- 
loped past  the  colonel  of  the  infantry,  he 
threw  up  his  hand  in  swift  salute.  "  We've 


A  MYSTERY  OF   HEROISM.  II3 

got  to  get  out  of  that,"  he  roared  angrily. 
He  was  a  black-bearded  officer,  and  his  eyes, 
which  resembled  beads,  sparkled  like  those 
of  an  insane  man.  His  jumping  horse  sped 
along  the  column  of  infantry. 

The  fat  major,  standing  carelessly  with  his 
sword  held  horizontally  behind  him  and  with 
his  legs  far  apart,  looked  after  the  receding 
horseman  and  laughed.  "  He  wants  to  get 
back  with  orders  pretty  quick,  or  there'll  be 
no  batt'ry  left,"  he  observed. 

The  wise  young  captain  of  the  second 
company  hazarded  to  the  lieutenant  colonel 
that  the  enemy's  infantry  would  probably 
soon  attack  the  hill,  and  the  lieutenant  colonel 
snubbed  him. 

A  private  in  one  of  the  rear  companies 
looked  out  over  the  meadow,  and  then  turned 
to  a  companion  and  said,  "  Look  there,  Jim  !  " 
It  was  the  wounded  officer  from  the  battery, 
who  some  time  before  had  started  to  ride 
across  the  meadow,  supporting  his  right  arm 
carefully  with  his  left  hand.  This  man  had 


H4  A  MYSTERY  OF  HEROISM. 

encountered  a  shell  apparently  at  a  time  when 
no  one  perceived  him,  and  he  could  now  be 
seen  lying  face  downward  with  a  stirruped 
foot  stretched  across  the  body  of  his  dead 
horse.  A  leg  of  the  charger  extended  slant- 
ingly upward  precisely  as  stiff  as  a  stake. 
Around  this  motionless  pair  the  shells  still 
howled. 

There  was  a  quarrel  in  A  Company.  Col- 
lins was  shaking  his  fist  in  the  faces  of  some 
laughing  comrades.  "  Dern  yeh !  I  ain't 
afraid  t'  go.  If  yeh  say  much,  I  will  go !  " 

"  Of  course,  yeh  will !  You'll  run  through 
that  there  medder,  won't  yeh  ?  " 

Collins  said,  in  a  terrible  voice,  "  You  see 
now  !  "  At  this  ominous  threat  his  comrades 
broke  into  renewed  jeers. 

Collins  gave  them  a  dark  scowl  and  went 
to  find  his  captain.  The  latter  was  convers- 
ing with  the  colonel  of  the  regiment. 

"  Captain,"  said  Collins,  saluting  and  stand- 
ing at  attention — in  those  days  all  trousers 
bagged  at  the  knees — "  captain,  I  want  t'  get 


A  MYSTERY  OF   HEROISM.  n$ 

permission  to  go  git  some  water  from  that 
there  well  over  yonder !  " 

The  colonel  and  the  captain  swung  about 
simultaneously  and  stared  across  the  meadow. 
The  captain  laughed.  "  You  must  be  pretty 
thirsty,  Collins  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  am." 

"Well— ah,"  said  the  captain.  After  a 
moment,  he  asked,  "  Can't  you  wait?  " 

"  No,  sir." 

The  colonel  was  watching  Collins's  face. 
"  Look  here,  my  lad,"  he  said,  in  a  pious  sort 
of  a  voice — "  look  here,  my  lad  " — Collins 
was  not  a  lad — "  don't  you  think  that's  taking 
pretty  big  risks  for  a  little  drink  of  water  ?  " 

"  I  dunno,"  said  Collins  uncomfortably. 
Some  of  the  resentment  toward  his  compan- 
ions, which  perhaps  had  forced  him  into 
this  affair,  was  beginning  to  fade.  "  I  dunno 
wether  'tis." 

The  colonel  and  the  captain  contemplated 
him  for  a  time. 

"  Well,"  said  the  captain  finally. 


H6  A   MYSTERY  OF   HEROISM. 

"Well,"  said  the  colonel,  "if  you  want  to 
go,  why,  go." 

Collins  saluted.     "  Much  obliged  t'  yeh." 

As  he  moved  away  the  colonel  called 
after  him.  "  Take  some  of  the  other  boys' 
canteens  with  you  an'  hurry  back  now." 

"Yes,  sir,  I  will." 

The  colonel  and  the  captain  looked  at 
each  other  then,  for  it  had  suddenly  occurred 
that  they  could  not  for  the  life  of  them  tell 
whether  Collins  wanted  to  go  or  whether  he 
did  not. 

They  turned  to  regard  Collins,  and  as 
they  perceived  him  surrounded  by  gesticu- 
lating comrades,  the  colonel  said :  "  Well,  by 
thunder!  I  guess  he's  going." 

Collins  appeared  as  a  man  dreaming.  In 
the  midst  of  the  questions,  the  advice,  the 
warnings,  all  the  excited  talk  of  his  company 
mates,  he  maintained  a  curious  silence. 

They  were  very  busy  in  preparing  him 
for  his  ordeal.  When  they  inspected  him 
carefully  it  was  somewhat  like  the  examina- 


A   MYSTERY   OF    HEROISM. 


117 


tion  that  grooms  give  a  horse  before  a  race ; 
and  they  were  amazed,  staggered  by  the 
whole  affair.  Their  astonishment  found  vent 
in  strange  repetitions. 

"Are  yeh  sure  a-goin'?"  they  demanded 
again  and  again. 

"  Certainly  I  am,"  cried  Collins,  at  last 
furiously. 

He  strode  sullenly  away  from  them.  He 
was  swinging  five  or  six  canteens  by  their 
cords.  It  seemed  that  his  cap  would  not 
remain  firmly  on  his  head,  and  often  he 
reached  and  pulled  it  down  over  his  brow. 

There  was  a  general  movement  in  the 
compact  column.  The  long  animal-like  thing 
moved  slightly.  Its  four  hundred  eyes  were 
turned  upon  the  figure  of  Collins. 

"  Well,  sir,  if  that  ain't  th'  derndest  thing ! 
I  never  thought  Fred  Collins  had  the  blood 
in  him  for  that  kind  of  business." 

"  What's  he  goin'  to  do,  anyhow?" 

"  He's  goin'  to  that  well  there  after  wa- 
ter." 


Il8  A  MYSTERY  OF   HEROISM. 

"  We  ain't  dyin'  of  thirst,  are  we  ?  That's 
foolishness." 

"  Well,  somebody  put  him  up  to  it,  an* 
he's  doin'  it." 

"  Say,  he  must  be  a  desperate  cuss." 

When  Collins  faced  the  meadow  anc 
walked  away  from  the  regiment,  he  was 
vaguely  conscious  that  a  chasm,  the  deep 
valley  of  all  prides,  was  suddenly  between 
him  and  his  comrades.  It  was  provisional, 
but  the  provision  was  that  he  return  as  a 
victor.  He  had  blindly  been  led  by  quaint 
emotions,  and  laid  himself  under  an  obliga- 
tion to  walk  squarely  up  to  the  face  of 
death. 

But  he  was  not  sure  that  he  wished  to 
make  a  retraction,  even  if  he  could  do  so 
without  shame.  As  a  matter  of  truth,  he 
was  sure  of  very  little.  He  was  mainly  sur- 
prised. 

It  seemed  to  him  supernaturally  strange 
that  he  had  allowed  his  mind  to  manoeuvre 
his  body  into  such  a  situation.  He  under- 


A  MYSTERY  OF   HEROISM. 


119 


stood  that  it  might  be  called  dramatically 
great. 

However,  he  had  no  full  appreciation  of 
anything,  excepting  that  he  was  actually  con- 
scious of  being  dazed.  He  could  feel  his 
dulled  mind  groping  after  the  form  and  col- 
our of  this  incident.  He  wondered  why  he 
did  not  feel  some  keen  agony  of  fear  cutting 
his  sense  like  a  knife.  He  wondered  at  this, 
because  human  expression  had  said  loudly 
for  centuries  that  men  should  feel  afraid  of 
certain  things,  and  that  all  men  who  did  not 
feel  this  fear  were  phenomena — heroes. 

He  was,  then,  a  hero.  He  suffered  that 
disappointment  which  we  would  all  have  if 
we  discovered  that  we  were  ourselves  capa- 
ble of  those  deeds  which  we  most  admire  in 
history  and  legend.  This,  then,  was  a  hero. 
After  all,  heroes  were  not  much. 

No,  it  could  not  be  true.  He  was  not  a 
hero.  Heroes  had  no  shames  in  their  lives, 
and,  as  for  him,  he  remembered  borrowing 
fifteen  dollars  from  a  friend  and  promising 


120  A   MYSTERY  OF   HEROISM. 

to  pay  it  back  the  next  day,  an,d  then  avoid- 
ing that  friend  for  ten  months.  When  at 
home  his  mother  had  aroused  him  for  the 
early  labour  of  his  life  on  the  farm,  it  had 
often  been  his  fashion  to  be  irritable,  child- 
ish, diabolical ;  and  his  mother  had  died  since 
he  had  come  to  the  war. 

He  saw  that,  in  this  matter  of  the  well, 
the  canteens,  the  shells,  he  was  an  intruder 
in  the  land  of  fine  deeds. 

He  was  now  about  thirty  paces  from  his 
comrades.  The  regiment  had  just  turned  its 
many  faces  toward  him. 

From  the  forest  of  terrific  noises  there  sud- 
denly emerged  a  little  uneven  line  of  men. 
They  fired  fiercely  and  rapidly  at  distant 
foliage  on  which  appeared  little  puffs  of  white 
smoke.  The  spatter  of  skirmish  firing  was 
added  to  the  thunder  of  the  guns  on  the  hill. 
The  little  line  of  men  ran  forward.  A  colour 
sergeant  fell  flat  with  his  flag  as  if  he  had 
slipped  on  ice.  There  was  hoarse  cheering 
from  this  distant  field. 


A  MYSTERY  OF   HEROISM.  I2i 

Collins  suddenly  felt  that  two  demon  fin- 
gers were  pressed  into  his  ears.  He  could  see 
nothing  but  flying  arrows,  flaming  red.  He 
lurched  from  the  shock  of  this  explosion,  but 
he  made  a  mad  rush  for  the  house,  which  he 
viewed  as  a  man  submerged  to  the  neck  in 
a  boiling  surf  might  view  the  shore.  In  the 
air,  little  pieces  of  shell  howled  and  the  earth- 
quake explosions  drove  him  insane  with  the 
menace  of  their  roar.  As  he  ran  the  canteens 
knocked  together  with  a  rhythmical  tinkling. 

As  he  neared  the  house,  each  detail  of  the 
scene  became  vivid  to  him.  He  was  aware  of 
some  bricks  of  the  vanished  chimney  lying 
on  the  sod.  There  was  a  door  which  hung 
by  one  hinge. 

Rifle  bullets  called  forth  by  the  insistent 
skirmishers  came  from  the  far-off  bank  of 
foliage.  They  mingled  with  the  shells  and 
the  pieces  of  shells  until  the  air  was  torn  in  all 
directions  by  hootings,  yells,  howls.  The  sky 
was  full  of  fiends  who  directed  all  their  wild 
rage  at  his  head. 


122  A  MYSTERY  OF  HEROISM. 

When  he  came  to  the  well,  he  flung  him- 
self face  downward  and  peered  into  its  dark- 
ness. There  were  furtive  silver  glintings  some 
feet  from  the  surface.  He  grabbed  one  of 
the  canteens  and,  unfastening  its  cap,  swung  it 
down  by  the  cord.  The  water  flowed  slowly 
in  with  an  indolent  gurgle. 

And  now  as  he  lay  with  his  face  turned 
away  he  was  suddenly  smitten  with  the  ter- 
ror. It  came  upon  his  heart  like  the  grasp 
of  claws.  All  the  power  faded  from  his  mus- 
cles. For  an  instant  he  was  no  more  than  a 
dead  man. 

The  canteen  filled  with  a  maddening  slow- 
ness, in  the  manner  of  all  bottles.  Presently 
he  recovered  his  strength  and  addressed  a 
screaming  oath  to  it.  He  leaned  over  until  it 
seemed  as  if  he  intended  to  try  to  push  water 
into  it  with  his  hands.  His  eyes  as  he  gazed 
down  into  the  well  shone  like  two  pieces 
of  metal  and  in  their  expression  was  a  great 
appeal  and  a  great  curse.  The  stupid  water 
derided  him. 


A  MYSTERY  OF  HEROISM. 

There  was  the  blaring  thunder  of  a  shell. 
Crimson  light  shone  through  the  swift-boil- 
ing  smoke  and  made  a  pink  reflection  on  part 
of  the  wall  of  the  well.  Collins  jerked  out 
his  arm  and  canteen  with  the  same  motion 
that  a  man  would  use  in  withdrawing  his 
head  from  a  furnace. 

He  scrambled  erect  and  glared  and  hesi- 
tated. On  the  ground  near  him  lay  the  old 
well  bucket,  with  a  length  of  rusty  chain.  He 
lowered  it  swiftly  into  the  well.  The  bucket 
struck  the  water  and  then,  turning  lazily  over, 
sank.  When,  with  hand  reaching  tremblingly 
over  hand,  he  hauled  it  out,  it  knocked  often 
against  the  walls  of  the  well  and  spilled  some 
of  its  contents. 

In  running  with  a  filled  bucket,  a  man 
can  adopt  but  one  kind  of  gait.  So  through 
this  terrible  field  over  which  screamed  prac- 
tical angels  of  death  Collins  ran  in  the  man- 
ner of  a  farmer  chased  out  of  a  dairy  by 
a  bull. 

His  face  went  staring  white  with  anticipa- 
9 


124 


A  MYSTERY  OF  HEROISM. 


tion — anticipation  of  a  blow  that  would  whirl 
him  around  and  down.  He  would  fall  as  he 
had  seen  other  men  fall,  the  life  knocked  out 
of  them  so  suddenly  that  their  knees  were  no 
more  quick  to  touch  the  ground  than  their 
heads.  He  saw  the  long  blue  line  of  the  regi- 
ment, but  his  comrades  were  standing  look- 
ing at  him  from  the  edge  of  an  impossible 
star.  He  was  aware  of  some  deep  wheel 
ruts  and  hoofprints  in  the  sod  beneath  his 
feet. 

The  artillery  officer  who  had  fallen  in  this 
meadow  had  been  making  groans  in  the  teeth 
of  the  tempest  of  sound.  These  futile  cries, 
wrenched  from  him  by  his  agony,  were  heard 
only  by  shells,  bullets.  When  wild-eyed  Col- 
lins came  running,  this  officer  raised  himself. 
His  face  contorted  and  blanched  from  pain, 
he  was  about  to  utter  some  great  beseeching 
cry.  But  suddenly  his  face  straightened  and 
he  called  :  "  Say,  young  man,  give  me  a  drink 
of  water,  will  you  ?  " 

Collins  had  no  room  amid  his  emotions  for 


A  MYSTERY  OF   HEROISM. 


125 


surprise.     He   was   mad  from  the  threats  of 
destruction. 

"  I  can't ! "  he  screamed,  and  in  his  reply 
was  a  full  description  of  his  quaking  appre- 
hension. His  cap  was  gone  and  his  hair  was 
riotous.  His  clothes  made  it  appear  that  he 
had  been  dragged  over  the  ground  by  the 
heels.  He  ran  on. 

The  officer's  head  sank  down  and  one  el- 
bow crooked.  His  foot  in  its  brass-bound 
stirrup  still  stretched  over  the  body  of  his 
horse  and  the  other  leg  was  under  the  steed. 

But  Collins  turned.  He  came  dashing 
back.  His  face  had  now  turned  gray  and  in 
his  eyes  was  all  terror.  "  Here  it  is !  here 
it  is  !  " 

The  officer  was  as  a  man  gone  in  drink. 
His  arm  bent  like  a  twig.  His  head  drooped 
as  if  his  neck  were  of  willow.  He  was  sink- 
ing to  the  ground,  to  lie  face  downward. 

Collins  grabbed  him  by  the  shoulder. 
"  Here  it  is.  Here's  your  drink.  Turn  over. 
Turn  over,  man,  for  God's  sake  !  " 


126  A  MYSTERY  OF   HEROISM. 

With  Collins  hauling  at  his  shoulder,  the 
officer  twisted  his  body  and  fell  with  his  face 
turned  toward  that  region  where  lived  the 
unspeakable  noises  of  the  swirling  missiles. 
There  was  the  faintest  shadow  of  a  smile  on 
his  lips  as  he  looked  at  Collins.  He  gave  a 
sigh,  a  little  primitive  breath  like  that  from  a 
child. 

Collins  tried  to  hold  the  bucket  steadily, 
but  his  shaking  hands  caused  the  water  to 
splash  all  over  the  face  of  the  dying  man. 
Then  he  jerked  it  away  and  ran  on. 

The  regiment  gave  him  a  welcoming  roar. 
The  grimed  faces  were  wrinkled  in  laughter. 

His  captain  waved  the  bucket  away. 
•  \£  "  Give  it  to  the  men  !  " 

The  two  genial,  skylarking  young  lieuten- 
ants were  the  first  to  gain  possession  of  it. 
They  played  over  it  in  their  fashion. 

When  one  tried  to  drink  the  other  teas- 
ingly  knocked  his  elbow.  "  Don't,  Billie ! 
You'll  make  me  spill  it,"  said  the  one.  The 
other  laughed. 


A  MYSTERY  OF   HEROISM. 


127 


Suddenly  there  was  an  oath,  the  thud  of 
wood  on  the  ground,  and  a  swift  murmur  of 
astonishment  among  the  ranks.  The  two  lieu- 
tenants glared  at  each  other.  The  bucket  lay 
on  the  ground  empty. 


AN  INDIANA  CAMPAIGN. 


I. 

WHEN  the  able-bodied  citizens  of  the  vil- 
lage formed  a  company  and  marched  away 
to  the  war,  Major  Tom  Boldin  assumed  in 
a  manner  the  burden  of  the  village  cares. 
Everybody  ran  to  him  when  they  felt  obliged 
to  discuss  their  affairs.  The  sorrows  of  the 
town  were  dragged  before  him.  His  little 
bench  at  the  sunny  side  of  Migglesville  tav- 
ern became  a  sort  of  an  open  court  where 
people  came  to  speak  resentfully  of  their 
grievances.  He  accepted  his  position  and 
struggled  manfully  under  the  load.  It  be- 
hooved him,  as  a  man  who  had  seen  the  sky 

red  over  the  quaint,  low  cities  of  Mexico,  and 
128 


AN   INDIANA  CAMPAIGN.  i2g 

the  compact  Northern  bayonets  gleaming  on 
the  narrow  roads. 

One  warm  summer  day  the  major  sat 
asleep  on  his  little  bench.  There  was  a  lull 
in  the  tempest  of  discussion  which  usually 
enveloped  him.  His  cane,  by  use  of  which 
he  could  make  the  most  tremendous  and  im- 
pressive gestures,  reposed  beside  him.  His 
hat  lay  upon  the  bench,  and  his  old  bald 
head  had  swung  far  forward  until  his  nose 
actually  touched  the  first  button  of  his  waist- 
coat. 

The  sparrows  wrangled  desperately  in  the 
road,  defying  perspiration.  Once  a  team 
went  jangling  and  creaking  past,  raising  a 
yellow  blur  of  dust  before  the  soft  tones  of 
the  field  and  sky.  In  the  long  grass  of  the 
meadow  across  the  road  the  insects  chirped 
and  clacked  eternally. 

Suddenly  a  frouzy-headed  boy  appeared 
in  the  roadway,  his  bare  feet  pattering  rapid- 
ly. He  was  extremely  excited.  He  gave  a 
shrill  whoop  as  he  discovered  the  sleeping 


AN   INDIANA  CAMPAIGN. 

major  and  rushed  toward  him.  He  created 
a  terrific  panic  among  some  chickens  who  had 
been  scratching  intently  near  the  major's 
feet.  They  clamoured  in  an  insanity  of  fear, 
and  rushed  hither  and  thither  seeking  a  way 
of  escape,  whereas  in  reality  all  ways  lay 
plainly  open  to  them. 

This  tumult  caused  the  major  to  arouse 
with  a  sudden  little  jump  of  amazement  and 
apprehension.  He  rubbed  his  eyes  and 
gazed  about  him.  Meanwhile,  some  clever 
chicken  had  discovered  a  passage  to  safety 
and  led  the  flock  into  the  garden,  where  they 
squawked  in  sustained  alarm. 

Panting  from  his  run  and  choked  with 
terror,  the  little  boy  stood  before  the  major, 
struggling  with  a  tale  that  was  ever  upon  the 
tip  of  his  tongue. 

"  Major — now — major " 

The  old  man,  roused  from  a  delicious 
slumber,  glared  impatiently  at  the  little 
boy.  "  Come,  come !  What's  th'  matter 
withyeh?"  he  demanded.  "  What's  th'  mat- 


AN  INDIANA  CAMPAIGN.  131 

ter  ?  Don't  stand  there  shaking !  Speak 
up!" 

"Lots  is  th'  matter!"  the  little  boy 
shouted  valiantly,  with  a  courage  born  of  the 
importance  of  his  tale.  "  My  ma's  chickens  'uz 
all  stole,  an' — now — he's  over  in  th'  woods !  " 

"  Who  is  ?  Who  is  over  in  the  woods  ? 
Go  ahead !  " 

"  Now— th'  rebel  is !  " 

"  What?"  roared  the  major. 

"Th'  rebel! "  cried  the  little  boy,  with  the 
last  of  his  breath. 

The  major  pounced  from  his  bench  in 
tempestuous  excitement.  He  seized  the  little 
boy  by  the  collar  and  gave  him  a  great  jerk. 
"  Where  ?  Are  yeh  sure  ?  Who  saw  'im  ? 
How  long  ago?  Where  is  he  now?  Did 
you  see  'im  ?  " 

The  little  boy,  frightened  at  the  major's 
fury,  began  to  sob.  After  a  moment  he 
managed  to  stammer :  "  He — now — he's  in  the 
woods.  I  saw  'im.  He  looks  uglier'n  any- 
thin'." 


132  AN   INDIANA  CAMPAIGN. 

The  major  released  his  hold  upon  the  boy, 
and,  pausing  for  a  time,  indulged  in  a  glori- 
ous dream.  Then  he  said :  "  By  thunder ! 
we'll  ketch  th*  cuss.  You  wait  here/'  he 
told  the  boy,  "an'  don't  say  a  word  t'  any- 
body. Do  yeh  hear  ?  " 

The  boy,  still  weeping,  nodded,  and  the 
major  hurriedly  entered  the  inn.  He  took 
down  from  its  pegs  an  awkward,  smooth- 
bore rifle  and  carefully  examined  the  enor- 
mous percussion  cap  that  was  fitted  over  the 
nipple.  Mistrusting  the  cap,  he  removed  it 
and  replaced  it  with  a  new  one.  He  scruti- 
nized the  gun  keenly,  as  if  he  could  judge 
in  this  manner  of  the  condition  of  the  load. 
All  his  movements  were  deliberate  and 
deadly. 

When  he  arrived  upon  the  porch  of  the 
tavern  he  beheld  the  yard  filled  with  people. 
Peter  Witheby,  sooty-faced  and  grinning, 
was  in  the  van.  He  looked  at  the  major. 
"Well?"  he  said. 

"Well?"  returned  the  major,  bridling. 


AN   INDIANA  CAMPAIGN.  j^ 

"Well,  what's  'che  got?"  said  old  Peter. 

" '  Got  ? '  Got  a  rebel  over  in  th'  woods !  " 
roared  the  major. 

At  this  sentence  the  women  and  boys, 
who  had  gathered  eagerly  about  him,  gave 
vent  to  startled  cries.  The  women  had  come 
from  adjacent  houses,  but  the  little  boys  rep- 
resented the  entire  village.  They  had  mirac- 
ulously heard  the  first  whisper  of  rumour, 
and  they  performed  wonders  in  getting  to 
the  spot.  They  clustered  around  the  im- 
portant figure  of  the  major  and  gazed  in 
silent  awe.  The  women,  however,  burst 
forth.  At  the  word  "rebel,"  which  repre- 
sented to  them  all  terrible  things,  they  del- 
uged the  major  with  questions  which  were 
obviously  unanswerable. 

He  shook  them  off  with  violent  impa- 
tience. Meanwhile  Peter  Witheby  was  try- 
ing to  force  exasperating  interrogations 
through  the  tumult  to  the  major's  ears. 
"What?  No!  Yes!  How  d'  I  know?" 
the  maddened  veteran  snarled  as  he  strug- 


AN   INDIANA  CAMPAIGN. 

gled  with  his  friends.  "No!  Yes!  What? 
How  in  thunder  d'  I  know?"  Upon  the 
steps  of  the  tavern  the  landlady  sat,  weeping 
forlornly. 

At  last  the  major  burst  through  the 
crowd,  and  went  to  the  roadway.  There,  as 
they  all  streamed  after  him,  he  turned  and 
faced  them.  "  Now,  look  a'  here,  I  don't 
know  any  more  about  this  than  you  do/'  he 
told  them  forcibly.  "All  that  I  know  is 
that  there's  a  rebel  over  in  Smith's  woods, 
an'  all  I  know  is  that  I'm  agoin*  after  'im." 

"  But  hoi'  on  a  minnet,"  said  old  Peter. 
"How  do  yeh  know  he's  a  rebel?" 

"  I  know  he  is !  "  cried  the  major.  "  Don't 
yeh  think  I  know  what  a  rebel  is?" 

Then,  with  a  gesture  of  disdain  at  the 
babbling  crowd,  he  marched  determinedly 
away,  his  rifle  held  in  the  hollow  of  his  arm. 
At  this  heroic  moment  a  new  clamour  arose, 
half  admiration,  half  dismay.  Old  Peter 
hobbled  after  the  major,  continually  repeat- 
ing, "  Hoi'  on  a  minnet." 


AN  INDIANA  CAMPAIGN. 


135 


The  little  boy  who  had  given  the  alarm 
was  the  centre  of  a  throng  of  lads  who  gazed 
with  envy  and  awe,  discovering  in  him  a  new 
quality.  He  held  forth  to  them  eloquently. 
The  women  stared  after  the  figure  of  the 
major  and  old  Peter,  his  pursuer.  Jerozel 
Bronson,  a  half-witted  lad  who  comprehend- 
ed nothing  save  an  occasional  genial  word, 
leaned  against  the  fence  and  grinned  like  a 
skull.  The  major  and  the  pursuer  passed 
out  of  view  around  the  turn  in  the  road 
where  the  great  maples  lazily  shook  the 
dust  that  lay  on  their  leaves. 

For  a  moment  the  little  group  of  women 
listened  intently  as  if  they  expected  to  hear 
a  sudden  shot  and  cries  from  the  distance. 
They  looked  at  each  other,  their  lips  a  little 
ways  apart.  The  trees  sighed  softly  in  the 
heat  of  the  summer  sun.  The  insects  in  the 
meadow  continued  their  monotonous  hum- 
ming, and,  somewhere,  a  hen  had  been 
stricken  with  fear  and  was  cackling  loudly. 

Finally,  Mrs.  Goodwin  said,    "Well,    I'm 


AN   INDIANA  CAMPAIGN. 

goin'  up  to  th'  turn  a*  th'  road,  anyhow." 
Mrs.  Willets  and  Mrs.  Joe  Petersen,  her  par- 
ticular friends,  cried  out  at  this  temerity,  but 
she  said,  "  Well,  I'm  goin',  anyhow." 

She  called  Bronson.  "  Come  on,  Jerozel. 
You're  a  man,  an'  if  he  should  chase  us,  why, 
you  mus*  pitch  inteh  'im.  Hey  ?  " 

Bronson  always  obeyed  everybody.  He 
grinned  an  assent,  and  went  with  her  down 
the  road. 

A  little  boy  attempted  to  follow  them,  but 
a  shrill  scream  from  his  mother  made  him 
halt 

The  remaining  women  stood  motionless, 
their  eyes  fixed  upon  Mrs.  Goodwin  and  Jero- 
zel. Then  at  last  one  gave  a  laugh  of  triumph 
at  her  conquest  of  caution  and  fear,  and  cried, 
"  Well,  I'm  goin'  too  !  " 

Another  instantly  said,  "  So  am  I." 
There  began  a  general  movement.  Some  of 
the  little  boys  had  already  ventured  a  hun- 
dred feet  away  from  the  main  body,  and  at 
this  unanimous  advance  they  spread  out 


AN   INDIANA  CAMPAIGN.  i^j 

ahead  in  little  groups.  Some  recounted  terri- 
ble stories  of  rebel  ferocity.  Their  eyes  were 
large  with  excitement.  The  whole  thing  with 
its  possible  dangers  had  for  them  a  delicious 
element.  Johnnie  Peterson,  who  could  whip 
any  boy  present,  explained  what  he  would  do 
in  case  the  enemy  should  happen  to  pounce 
out  at  him. 

The  familiar  scene  suddenly  assumed  a 
new  aspect.  The  field  of  corn  which  met  the 
road  upon  the  left  was  no  longer  a  mere  field 
of  corn.  It  was  a  darkly  mystic  place  whose 
recesses  could  contain  all  manner  of  dangers. 
The  long  green  leaves,  waving  in  the  breeze, 
rustled  from  the  passing  of  men.  In  the  song 
of  the  insects  there  were  now  omens,  threats. 

There  was  a  warning  in  the  enamel  blue  of 
the  sky,  in  the  stretch  of  yellow  road,  in  the 
very  atmosphere.  Above  the  tops  of  the 
corn  loomed  the  distant  foliage  of  Smith's 
woods,  curtaining  the  silent  action  of  a  trage- 
dy whose  horrors  they  imagined. 

The   women  and  the  little  boys   came   to 


AN   INDIANA  CAMPAIGN. 

a  halt,  overwhelmed  by  the  impressiveness  of 
the  landscape.     They  waited  silently. 

Mrs.  Goodwin  suddenly  said,  "  I'm  goin' 
back."  The  others,  who  all  wished  to  return, 
cried  at  once  disdainfully : 

"  Well,  go  back,  if  yeh  want  to  !  " 
A  cricket  at  the  roadside  exploded  sud- 
denly in  his  shrill  song,  and  a  woman  who 
had  been  standing  near  shrieked  in  startled 
terror.  An  electric  movement  went  through 
the  group  of  women.  They  jumped  and  gave 
vent  to  sudden  screams.  With  the  fears  still 
upon  their  agitated  faces,  they  turned  to  be- 
rate the  one  who  had  shrieked.  "  My  !  what 
a  goose  you  are,  Sallie !  Why,  it  took  my 
breath  away.  Goodness  sakes,  don't  holler 
like  that  again  !  " 

II. 

"  HOL'  on  a  minnet !  "  Peter  Witheby  was 
crying  to  the  major,  as  the  latter,  full  of  the 
importance  and  dignity  of  his  position  as  pro- 
tector of  Migglesville,  paced  forward  swiftly. 


AN  INDIANA  CAMPAIGN. 

The  veteran  already  felt  upon  his  brow  a 
wreath  formed  of  the  flowers  of  gratitude,  and 
as  he  strode  he  was  absorbed  in  planning  a 
calm  and  self-contained  manner  of  wearing  it. 
"  Hoi'  on  a  minnet ! "  piped  old  Peter  in  the 
rear. 

At  last  the  major,  aroused  from  his  dream 
of  triumph,  turned  about  wrathfully.  "  Well, 
what  ?  " 

"  Now,  look  a'  here,"  said  Peter.  "  What 
'chegoin't'do?" 

The  major,  with  a  gesture  of  supreme  ex- 
asperation, wheeled  again  and  went  on. 
When  he  arrived  at  the  cornfield  he  halted 
and  waited  for  Peter.  He  had  suddenly  felt 
that  indefinable  menace  in  the  landscape. 

"  Well  ?  "  demanded  Peter,  panting. 

The  major's  eyes  wavered  a  trifle. 
"Well,"  he  repeated— " well,  I'm  goin'  in 
there  an'  bring  out  that  there  rebel." 

They  both  paused  and  studied  the  gently 
swaying  masses  of  corn,  and  behind  them  the 
looming  woods,  sinister  with  possible  secrets. 


10 


140  AN   INDIANA  CAMPAIGN. 

"  Well,"  said  old  Peter. 

The  major  moved  uneasily  and  put  his 
hand  to  his  brow.  Peter  waited  in  obvious 
expectation. 

The  major  crossed  through  the  grass  at 
the  roadside  and  climbed  the  fence.  He  put 
both  legs  over  the  topmost  rail  and  then 
sat  perched  there,  facing  the  woods.  Once 
he  turned  his  head  and  asked,  "  What  ?  " 

"  I  hain't  said  anythin',"  answered  Peter. 

The  major  clambered  down  from  the  fence 
and  went  slowly  into  the  corn,  his  gun  held  in 
readiness.  Peter  stood  in  the  road. 

Presently  the  major  returned  and  said,  in  a 
cautious  whisper,  "  If  yeh  hear  anythin',  you 
come  a-runnin',  will  yeh  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  hain't  got  no  gun  nor  nuthin'," 
said  Peter,  in  the  same  low  tone  ;  "  what  good 
'ud  I  do  ?  " 

"  Well,  yeh  might  come  along  with  me  an' 
watch,"  said  the  major.  "Four  eyes  is  bet- 
ter'n  two." 

"  If  I  had  a  gun "  began  Peter. 


AN  INDIANA  CAMPAIGN.  j^ 

"  Oh,  yeh  don't  need  no  gun,"  interrupted 
the  major,  waving  his  hand.  "  All  I'm  afraid 
of  is  that  I  won't  find  'im.  My  eyes  ain't  so 
good  as  they  was." 

"  Well " 

"  Come  along,"  whispered  the  major.  "  Yeh 
hain't  afraid,  are  yeh  ?  " 

«  No,  but " 

"  Well,  come  along,  then.  What's  th'  mat- 
ter with  yeh  ?  " 

Peter  climbed  the  fence.  He  paused  on 
the  top  rail  and  took  a  prolonged  stare  at 
the  inscrutable  woods.  When  he  joined  the 
major  in  the  cornfield  he  said,  with  a  touch 
of  anger : 

"  Well,  you  got  the  gun.  Remember  that. 
If  he  comes  for  me,  I  hain't  got  a  blame 
thing ! " 

"  Shucks  !  "  answered  the  major.  "  He  ain't 
agoin'  t'  come  for  yeh." 

The  two  then  began  a  wary  journey  through 
the  corn.  One  by  one  the  long  aisles  between 
the  rows  appeared.  As  they  glanced  along 


142 


AN   INDIANA  CAMPAIGN. 


each  of  them  it  seemed  as  if  some  gruesome 
thing  had  just  previously  vacated  it.  Old 
Peter  halted  once  and  whispered  :  "  Say,  look 
a*  here  ;  supposin' — supposin' " 

"  Supposin'  what  ?  "  demanded  the  major. 

"  Supposin' "  said  Peter.  "  Well,  re- 
member you  got  th'  gun,  an'  I  hain't  got  any- 
thin'." 

"  Thunder  !  "  said  the  major. 

When  they  got  to  where  the  stalks  were 
very  short  because  of  the  shade  cast  by  the 
trees  of  the  wood,  they  halted  again.  The 
leaves  were  gently  swishing  in  the  breeze. 
Before  them  stretched  the  mystic  green  wall 
of  the  forest,  and  there  seemed  to  be  in  it 
eyes  which  followed  each  of  their  movements. 

Peter  at  last  said,  "  I  don't  believe  there's 
anybody  in  there." 

"  Yes,  there  is,  too,"  said  the  major.  "  I'll 
bet  anythin'  he's  in  there." 

"  How  d'  yeh  know  ?  "  asked  Peter.  "  I'll 
bet  he  ain't  within  a  mile  o'  here." 

The  major  suddenly  ejaculated,  "  Listen !  " 


AN   INDIANA  CAMPAIGN.  I43 

They  bent  forward,  scarce  breathing,  their 
mouths  agape,  their  eyes  glinting.  Finally, 
the  major  turned  his  head.  "  Did  yeh  hear 
that  ?  "  he  said  hoarsely. 

"  No,"  said  Peter,  in  a  low  voice.  "  What 
was  it  ?  " 

The  major  listened  for  a  moment.  Then 
he  turned  again.  "  I  thought  I  heered  some- 
body holler  !  "  he  explained  cautiously. 

They  both  bent  forward  and  listened  once 
more.  Peter  in  the  intentness  of  his  attitude 
lost  his  balance  and  was  obliged  to  lift  his 
foot  hastily  and  with  noise.  "  S-s-sh !  "  hissed 
the  major. 

After  a  minute  Peter  spoke  quite  loudly, 
"  Oh,  shucks  !  I  don't  believe  yeh  heered  any- 
thin'." 

The  major  made  a  frantic  downward  ges- 
ture with  his  hand.  "  Shet  up,  will  yeh  !  " 
he  said,  in  an  angry  undertone. 

Peter  became  silent  for  a  moment,  but  pres- 
ently he  said  again,  "  Oh,  yeh  didn't  hear 
anythin'." 


144  AN  INDIANA  CAMPAIGN. 

The  major  turned  to  glare  at  his  com- 
panion in  despair  and  wrath. 

"  What's  th'  matter  with  yeh  ?  Can't  yeh 
shet  up  ?  " 

"  Oh,  this  here  ain't  no  use.  If  you're 
goin'  in  after  'im,  why  don't  yeh  go  in  after 
'im  ?  " 

"  Well,  gimme  time,  can't  yeh  ?  "  said  the 
major,  in  a  growl.  And,  as  if  to  add  more 
to  this  reproach,  he  climbed  the  fence  that 
compassed  the  woods,  looking  resentfully 
back  at  his  companion. 

"  Well,"  said  Peter,  when  the  major  paused. 

The  major  stepped  down  upon  the  thick 
carpet  of  brown  leaves  that  stretched  under 
the  trees.  He  turned  then  to  whisper,  "  You 
wait  here,  will  yeh?"  His  face  was  red  with 
determination. 

"Well,  hoi'  on  a  minnet ! "  said  Peter. 
"You— I— we'd  better " 

"  No,"  said  the  major.     "  You  wait  here." 

He  went  stealthily  into  the  thickets.  Peter 
watched  him  until  he  grew  to  be  a  vague,  slow- 


AN    INDIANA  CAMPAIGN.  j^ 

moving  shadow.  From  time  to  time  he  could 
hear  the  leaves  crackle  and  twigs  snap  under 
the  major's  awkward  tread.  Peter,  intent, 
breathless,  waited  for  the  peal  of  sudden 
tragedy.  Finally,  the  woods  grew  silent  in  a 
solemn  and  impressive  hush  that  caused  Peter 
to  feel  the  thumping  of  his  heart.  He  began 
to  look  about  him  to  make  sure  that  noth- 
ing should  spring  upon  him  from  the  sombre 
shadows.  He  scrutinized  this  cool  gloom  be- 
fore him,  and  at  times  he  thought  he  could 
perceive  the  moving  of  swift  silent  shapes. 
He  concluded  that  he  had  better  go  back 
and  try  to  muster  some  assistance  to  the 
major. 

As  Peter  came  through  the  corn,  the 
women  in  the  road  caught  sight  of  the  glit- 
tering figure  and  screamed.  Many  of  them 
began  to  run.  The  little  boys,  with  all  their 
valour,  scurried  away  in  clouds.  Mrs.  Joe 
Peterson,  however,  cast  a  glance  over  her 
shoulders  as  she,  with  her  skirts  gathered 
up,  was  running  as  best  she  could.  She  in- 


I46  AN   INDIANA  CAMPAIGN. 

stantly  stopped  and,  in  tones  of  deepest 
scorn,  called  out  to  the  others,  "  Why,  it's 
on'y  Pete  Witheby ! "  They  came  faltering 
back  then,  those  who  had  been  naturally 
swiftest  in  the  race  avoiding  the  eyes  of 
those  whose  limbs  had  enabled  them  to  flee 
a  short  distance. 

Peter  came  rapidly,  appreciating  the 
glances  of  vivid  interest  in  the  eyes  of  the 
women.  To  their  lightning-like  questions, 
which  hit  all  sides  of  the  episode,  he  opposed 
a  new  tranquillity  gained  from  his  sudden 
ascent  in  importance.  He  made  no  answer 
to  their  clamour.  When  he  had  reached  the 
top  of  the  fence,  he  called  out  command- 
ingly :  "  Here  you,  Johnnie,  you  and  George, 
run  an'  git  my  gun !  It's  hangin'  on  th'  pegs 
over  th'  bench  in  th'  shop." 

At  this  terrible  sentence,  a  shuddering 
cry  broke  from  the  women.  The  boys  named 
sped  down  the  road,  accompanied  by  a  reti- 
nue of  envious  companions. 

Peter   swung   his  legs   over  the   rail   and 


AN   INDIANA  CAMPAIGN. 

faced  the  woods  again.  He  twisted  his  head 
once  to  sa}1- :  "  Keep  still,  can't  yeh  ?  Quit 
scufflin'  aroun' ! "  They  could  see  by  his 
manner  that  this  was  a  supreme  moment. 
The  group  became  motionless  and  still. 
Later,  Peter  turned  to  say,  "  S-s-sh!"  to  a  rest- 
less boy,  and  the  air  with  which  he  said  it 
smote  them  all  with  awe. 

The  little  boys  who  had  gone  after  the 
gun  came  pattering  along  hurriedly,  the 
weapon  borne  in  the  midst  of  them.  Each 
was  anxious  to  share  in  the  honour.  The 
one  who  had  been  delegated  to  bring  it  was 
bullying  and  directing  his  comrades. 

Peter  said,  "S-s-sh!"  He  took  the  gun 
and  poised  it  in  readiness  to  sweep  the  corn- 
field. He  scowled  at  the  boys  and  whispered 
angrily :  "  Why  didn't  yeh  bring  th'  powder 
horn  an'  th'  thing  with  th'  bullets  in?  I 
told  yeh  t'  bring  'em.  I'll  send  somebody 
else  next  time." 

"  Yeh  didn't  tell  us ! "  cried  the  two  boys 
shrilly. 


1 48  AN  INDIANA  CAMPAIGN. 

"  S-s-sh  !  Quit  yeh  noise,"  said  Peter,  with 
a  violent  gesture. 

However,  this  reproof  enabled  other  boys 
to  recover  that  peace  of  mind  which  they 
had  lost  when  seeing  their  friends  loaded 
with  honours. 

The  women  had  cautiously  approached 
the  fence  and,  from  time  to  time,  whispered 
feverish  questions;  but  Peter  repulsed  them 
savagely,  with  an  air  of  being  infinitely  both- 
ered by  their  interference  in  his  intent  watch. 
They  were  forced  to  listen  again  in  silence 
to  the  weird  and  prophetic  chanting  of  the 
insects  and  the  mystic  silken  rustling  of  the 
corn. 

At  last  the  thud  of  hurrying  feet  in  the 
soft  soil  of  the  field  came  to  their  ears.  A 
dark  form  sped  toward  them.  A  wave  of  a 
mighty  fear  swept  over  the  group,  and  the 
screams  of  the  women  came  hoarsely  from 
their  choked  throats.  Peter  swung  madly 
from  his  perch,  and  turned  to  use  the  fence 
as  a  rampart. 


AN  INDIANA  CAMPAIGN. 


149 


But  it  was  the  major.  His  face  was  in- 
flamed and  his  eyes  were  glaring.  He 
clutched  his  rifle  by  the  middle  and  swung 
it  wildly.  He  was  bounding  at  a  great  speed 
for  his  fat,  short  body. 

"  It's  all  right !  it's  all  right !  "  he  began  to 
yell,  some  distance  away.  "  It's  all  right ! 
It's  on'y  ol'  Milt'  Jacoby ! " 

When  he  arrived  at  the  top  of  the  fence, 
he  paused  and  mopped  his  brow. 

"  What  ?  "  they  thundered,  in  an  agony  of 
sudden  unreasoning  disappointment. 

Mrs.  Joe  Petersen,  who  was  a  distant 
connection  of  Milton  Jacoby,  thought  to 
forestall  any  damage  to  her  social  position 
by  saying  at  once  disdainfully,  "  Drunk,  I 
s'pose ! " 

"  Yep,"  said  the  major,  still  on  the  fence, 
and  mopped  his  brow.  "  Drunk  as  a  fool. 
Thunder  !  I  was  surprised.  I — I — thought  it 
was  a  rebel,  sure." 

The  thoughts  of  all  these  women  wavered 
for  a  time.  They  were  at  a  loss  for  precise 


AN   INDIANA  CAMPAIGN. 

expression  of  their  emotion.  At  last,  how- 
ever, they  hurled  this  superior  sentence  at 
the  major: 

"  Well,  yeh  might  have  known." 


A  GRAY  SLEEVE. 


I. 

"  IT  looks  as  if  it  might  rain  this  after- 
noon," remarked  the  lieutenant  of  artillery. 

"  So  it  does,"  the  infantry  captain  assented. 
He  glanced  casually  at  the  sky.  When  his 
eyes  had  lowered  to  the  green-shadowed 
landscape  before  him,  he  said  fretfully :  "  I 
wish  those  fellows  out  yonder  would  quit 
pelting  at  us.  They've  been  at  it  since  noon." 

At  the  edge  of  a  grove  of  maples,  across 
wide  fields,  there  occasionally  appeared  little 
puffs  of  smoke  of  a  dull  hue  in  this  gloom 
of  sky  which  expressed  an  impending  rain. 
The  long  wave  of  blue  and  steel  in  the  field 

moved  uneasily  at  the  eternal  barking  of  the 
151 


152  A  GRAY  SLEEVE. 

far-away  sharpshooters,  and  the  men,  leaning 
upon  their  rifles,  stared  at  the  grove  of 
maples.  Once  a  private  turned  to  borrow 
some  tobacco  from  a  comrade  in  the  rear 
rank,  but,  with  his  hand  still  stretched  out, 
he  continued  to  twist  his  head  and  glance  at 
the  distant  trees.  He  was  afraid  the  enemy 
would  shoot  him  at  a  time  when  he  was  not 
looking. 

Suddenly  the  artillery  officer  said,  "  See 
what's  coming ! " 

Along  the  rear  of  the  brigade  of  infantry 
a  column  of  cavalry  was  sweeping  at  a  hard 
gallop.  A  lieutenant,  riding  some  yards  to 
the  right  of  the  column,  bawled  furiously  at 
the  four  troopers  just  at  the  rear  of  the 
colours.  They  had  lost  distance  and  made  a 
little  gap,  but  at  the  shouts  of  the  lieutenant 
they  urged  their  horses  forward.  The  bugler, 
careering  along  behind  the  captain  of  the 
troop,  fought  and  tugged  like  a  wrestler  to 
keep  his  frantic  animal  from  bolting  far  ahead 
of  the  column. 


A  GRAY  SLEEVE.  jt^ 

On  the  springy  turf  the  innumerable 
hoofs  thundered  in  a  swift  storm  of  sound. 
In  the  brown  faces  of  the  troopers  their  eyes 
were  set  like  bits  of  flashing  steel. 

The  long  line  of  the  infantry  regiments 
standing  at  ease  underwent  a  sudden  move- 
ment at  the  rush  of  the  passing  squadron. 
The  foot  soldiers  turned  their  heads  to  gaze 
at  the  torrent  of  horses  and  men. 

The  yellow  folds  of  the  flag  fluttered 
back  in  silken,  shuddering  waves  as  if  it 
were  a  reluctant  thing.  Occasionally  a  giant 
spring  of  a  charger  would  rear  the  firm  and 
sturdy  figure  of  a  soldier  suddenly  head  and 
shoulders  above  his  comrades.  Over  the 
noise  of  the  scudding  hoofs  could  be  heard 
the  creaking  of  leather  trappings,  the  jingle 
and  clank  of  steel,  and  the  tense,  low-toned 
commands  or  appeals  of  the  men  to  their 
horses.  And  the  horses  were  mad  with  the 
headlong  sweep  of  this  movement.  Power- 
ful under  jaws  bent  back  and  straightened 
so  that  the  bits  were  clamped  as  rigidly  as 


J54  A  GRAY  SLEEVE. 

vices  upon  the  teeth,  and  glistening  necks 
arched  in  desperate  resistance  to  the  hands 
at  the  bridles.  Swinging  their  heads  in  rage 
at  the  granite  laws  of  their  lives,  which 
compelled  even  their  angers  and  their  ar- 
dours to  chosen  directions  and  chosen  faces, 
their  flight  was  as  a  flight  of  harnessed 
demons. 

The  captain's  bay  kept  its  pace  at  the 
head  of  the  squadron  with  the  lithe  bounds 
of  a  thoroughbred,  and  this  horse  was  proud 
as  a  chief  at  the  roaring  trample  of  his  fel- 
lows behind  him.  The  captain's  glance  was 
calmly  upon  the  grove  of  maples  whence 
the  sharpshooters  of  the  enemy  had  been 
picking  at  the  blue  line.  He  seemed  to  be 
reflecting.  He  stolidly  rose  and  fell  with 
the  plunges  of  his  horse  in  all  the  indiffer- 
ence of  a  deacon's  figure  seated  plumply  in 
church.  And  it  occurred  to  many  of  the 
watching  infantry  to  wonder  why  this  officer 
could  remain  imperturbable  and  reflective 
when  his  squadron  was  thundering  and 


A  GRAY  SLEEVE.  ^5 

swarming  behind  him  like  the  rushing  of  a 
flood. 

The  column  swung  in  a  sabre-curve  to- 
ward a  break  in  a  fence,  and  dashed  into  a 
roadway.  Once  a  little  plank  bridge  was 
encountered,  and  the  sound  of  the  hoofs  upon 
it  was  like  the  long  roll  of  many  drums. 
An  old  captain  in  the  infantry  turned  to  his 
first  lieutenant  and  made  a  remark  which  was 
a  compound  of  bitter  disparagement  of  cav- 
alry in  general  and  soldiery  admiration  of 
this  particular  troop. 

Suddenly  the  bugle  sounded,  and  the  col- 
umn halted  with  a  jolting  upheaval  amid 
sharp,  brief  cries.  A  moment  later  the  men 
had  tumbled  from  their  horses,  and,  carbines 
in  hand,  were  running  in  a  swarm  toward 
the  grove  of  maples.  In  the  road  one  of 
every  four  of  the  troopers  was  standing  with 
braced  legs,  and  pulling  and  hauling  at  the 
bridles  of  four  frenzied  horses. 

The   captain   was  running  awkwardly  in 

his  boots.     He  held  his  sabre  low  so  that  the 
ii 


156  A  GRAY  SLEEVE. 

point  often  threatened  to  catch  in  the  turf. 
His  yellow  hair  ruffled  out  from  under  his 
faded  cap.  "  Go  in  hard  now  !  "  he  roared, 
in  a  voice  of  hoarse  fury.  His  face  was  vio- 
lently red. 

The  troopers  threw  themselves  upon  the 
grove  like  wolves  upon  a  great  animal. 
Along  the  whole  front  of  woods  there  was 
the  dry,  crackling  of  musketry,  with  bitter, 
swift  flashes  and  smoke  that  writhed  like 
stung  phantoms.  The  troopers  yelled  shrilly 
and  spanged  bullets  low  into  the  foliage. 

For  a  moment,  when  near  the  woods,  the 
line  almost  halted.  The  men  struggled  and 
fought  for  a  time  like  swimmers  encounter- 
ing a  powerful  current.  Then  with  a  su- 
preme effort  they  went  on  again.  They 
dashed  madly  at  the  grove,  whose  foliage 
from  the  high  light  of  the  field  was  as  in- 
scrutable as  a  wall. 

Then  suddenly  each  detail  of  the  calm 
trees  became  apparent,  and  with  a  few  more 
frantic  leaps  the  men  were  in  the  cool  gloom 


A  GRAY  SLEEVE. 


157 


of  the  woods.  There  was  a  heavy  odour  as 
from  burned  paper.  Wisps  of  gray  smoke 
wound  upward.  The  men  halted  and,  grimy, 
perspiring,  and  puffing,  they  searched  the 
recesses  of  the  woods  with  eager,  fierce 
glances.  Figures  could  be  seen  flitting  afar 
off.  A  dozen  carbines  rattled  at  them  in  an 
angry  volley. 

During  this  pause  the  captain  strode  along 
the  line,  his  face  lit  with  a  broad  smile  of 
contentment.  "When  he  sends  this  crowd 
to  do  anything,  I  guess  he'll  find  we  do  it 
pretty  sharp,"  he  said  to  the  grinning  lieu- 
tenant. 

"Say,  they  didn't  stand  that  rush  a  min- 
ute, did  they  ? "  said  the  subaltern.  Both 
officers  were  profoundly  dusty  in  their  uni- 
forms, and  their  faces  were  soiled  like  those 
of  two  urchins. 

Out  in  the  grass  behind  them  were  three 
tumbled  and  silent  forms. 

Presently  the  line  moved  forward  again. 
The  men  went  from  tree  to  tree  like  hunters 


!^8  A  GRAY  SLEEVE. 

stalking  game.  Some  at  the  left  of  the  line 
fired  occasionally,  and  those  at  the  right 
gazed  curiously  in  that  direction.  The  men 
still  breathed  heavily  from  their  scramble 
across  the  field. 

Of  a  sudden  a  trooper  halted  and  said: 
"  Hello !  there's  a  house ! "  Every  one 
paused.  The  men  turned  to  look  at  their 
leader. 

The  captain  stretched  his  neck  and  swung 
his  head  from  side  to  side.  "  By  George,  it 
is  a  house ! "  he  said. 

Through  the  wealth  of  leaves  there 
vaguely  loomed  the  form  of  a  large,  white 
house.  These  troopers,  brown-faced  from 
many  days  of  campaigning,  each  feature  of 
them  telling  of  their  placid  confidence  and 
courage,  were  stopped  abruptly  by  the  ap- 
pearance of  this  house.  There  was  some 
subtle  suggestion — some  tale  of  an  unknown 
thing — which  watched  them  from  they  knew 
not  what  part  of  it. 

A  rail  fence  girded  a  wide  lawn  of  tan- 


A  GRAY  SLEEVE. 

gled  grass.  Seven  pines  stood  along  a  drive- 
way which  led  from  two  distant  posts  of  a 
vanished  gate.  The  blue-clothed  troopers 
moved  forward  until  they  stood  at  the  fence 
peering  over  it. 

The  captain  put  one  hand  on  the  top  rail 
and  seemed  to  be  about  to  climb  the  fence, 
when  suddenly  he  hesitated,  and  said  in  a 
low  voice,  "  Watson,  what  do  you  think 
of  it?" 

The  lieutenant  stared  at  the  house. 
"  Derned  if  I  know ! "  he  replied. 

The  captain  pondered.  It  happened  that 
the  whole  company  had  turned  a  gaze  of 
profound  awe  and  doubt  upon  this  edifice 
which  confronted  them.  The  men  were  very 
silent. 

At  last  the  captain  swore  and  said :  "  We 
are  certainly  a  pack  of  fools.  Derned  old 
deserted  house  halting  a  company  of  Union 
cavalry,  and  making  us  gape  like  babies ! " 

"Yes,  but  there's  something — something 
"  insisted  the  subaltern  in  a  half  stammer. 


l6o  A  GRAY  SLEEVE. 

"Well,  if  there's  'something — something' 
in  there,  I'll  get  it  out,"  said  the  captain. 
"  Send  Sharpe  clean  around  to  the  other  side 
with  about  twelve  men,  so  we  will  sure  bag 
your  '  something — something,'  and  I'll  take  a 
few  of  the  boys  and  find  out  what's  in  the 
d d  old  thing  !  " 

He  chose  the  nearest  eight  men  for  his 
"  storming  party,"  as  the  lieutenant  called  it. 
After  he  had  waited  some  minutes  for  the 
others  to  get  into  position,  he  said  "  Come 
ahead "  to  his  eight  men,  and  climbed  the 
fence. 

The  brighter  light  of  the  tangled  lawn 
made  him  suddenly  feel  tremendously  appar- 
ent, and  he  wondered  if  there  could  be  some 
mystic  thing  in  the  house  which  was  regard- 
ing this  approach.  His  men  trudged  silently 
at  his  back.  They  stared  at  the  windows 
and  lost  themselves  in  deep  speculations  as 
to  the  probability  of  there  being,  perhaps, 
eyes  behind  the  blinds — malignant  eyes,  pierc- 
ing eyes. 


A  GRAY  SLEEVE.  j6i 

Suddenly  a  corporal  in  the  party  gave 
vent  to  a  startled  exclamation,  and  half  threw 
his  carbine  into  position.  The  captain  turned 
quickly,  and  the  corporal  said :  "  I  saw  an 
arm  move  the  blinds.  An  arm  with  a  gray 
sleeve!" 

"  Don't  be  a  fool,  Jones,  now ! "  said  the 
captain  sharply. 

"  I  swear  t' "  began  the  corporal,  but 

the  captain  silenced  him. 

When  they  arrived  at  the  front  of  the 
house,  the  troopers  paused,  while  the  captain 
went  softly  up  the  front  steps.  He  stood 
before  the  large  front  door  and  studied  it. 
Some  crickets  chirped  in  the  long  grass,  and 
the  nearest  pine  could  be  heard  in  its  endless 
sighs.  One  of  the  privates  moved  uneasily, 
and  his  foot  crunched  the  gravel.  Suddenly 
the  captain  swore  angrily  and  kicked  the 
door  with  a  loud  crash.  It  flew  open. 


162  A  GRAY  SLEEVE. 


II. 

THE  bright  lights  of  the  day  flashed  into 
the  old  house  when  the  captain  angrily 
kicked  open  the  door.  He  was  aware  of  a 
wide  hallway  carpeted  with  matting  and  ex- 
tending deep  into  the  dwelling.  There  was 
also  an  old  walnut  hatrack  and  a  little  mar- 
ble-topped table  with  a  vase  and  two  books 
upon  it.  Farther  back  was  a  great,  venerable 
fireplace  containing  dreary  ashes. 

But  directly  in  front  of  the  captain  was 
a  young  girl.  The  flying  open  of  the  door 
had  obviously  been  an  utter  astonishment  to 
her,  and  she  remained  transfixed  there  in  the 
middle  of  the  floor,  staring  at  the  captain 
with  wide  eyes. 

She  was  like  a  child  caught  at  the  time  of 
a  raid  upon  the  cake.  She  wavered  to  and 
fro  upon  her  feet,  and  held  her  hands  behind 
her.  There  were  two  little  points  of  terror 
in  her  eyes,  as  she  gazed  up  at  the  young  cap- 


A  GRAY  SLEEVE. 

tain  in  dusty  blue,  with  his  reddish,  bronze 
complexion,  his  yellow  hair,  his  bright  sabre 
held  threateningly. 

These  two  remained  motionless  and  silent, 
simply  staring  at  each  other  for  some  mo- 
ments. 

The  captain  felt  his  rage  fade  out  of  him 
and  leave  his  mind  limp.  He  had  been  vio- 
lently angry,  because  this  house  had  made 
him  feel  hesitant,  wary.  He  did  not  like  to 
be  wary.  He  liked  to  feel  confident,  sure. 
So  he  had  kicked  the  door  open,  and  had 
been  prepared  to  march  in  like  a  soldier  of 
wrath. 

But  now  he  began,  for  one  thing,  to  won- 
der if  his  uniform  was  so  dusty  and  old  in  ap- 
pearance. Moreover,  he  had  a  feeling  that 
his  face  was  covered  with  a  compound  of 
dust,  grime,  and  perspiration.  He  took  a 
step  forward  and  said,  "  I  didn't  mean  to 
frighten  you."  But  his  voice  was  coarse  from 
his  battle-howling.  It  seemed  to  him  to  have 
hempen  fibres  in  it. 


164  A  GRAY  SLEEVE. 

The  girl's  breath  came  in  little,  quick 
gasps,  and  she  looked  at  him  as  she  would 
have  looked  at  a  serpent. 

"I  didn't  mean  to  frighten  you,"  he  said 
again. 

The  girl,  still  with  her  hands  behind  her, 
began  to  back  away. 

"  Is  there  any  one  else  in  the  house  ?  "  he 
went  on,  while  slowly  following  her.  "I 
don't  wish  to  disturb  you,  but  we  had  a  fight 
with  some  rebel  skirmishers  in  the  woods, 
and  I  thought  maybe  some  of  them  might 
have  come  in  here.  In  fact,  I  was  pretty  sure 
of  it.  Are  there  any  of  them  here  ?  " 

The  girl  looked  at  him  and  said,  "  No !  " 
He  wondered  why  extreme  agitation  made 
the  eyes  of  some  women  so  limpid  and 
bright. 

"  Who  is  here  besides  yourself  ?  " 

By  this  time  his  pursuit  had  driven  her  to 
the  end  of  the  hall,  and  she  remained  there 
with  her  back  to  the  wall  and  her  hands  still 
behind  her.  When  she  answered  this  ques- 


A  GRAY  SLEEVE.  ^5 

tion,  she  did  not  look  at  him  but  down  at  the 
floor.  She  cleared  her  voice  and  then  said, 
"  There  is  no  one  here." 

"  No  one  ?  " 

She  lifted  her  eyes  to  him  in  that  appeal 
that  the  human  being  must  make  even  to  fall- 
ing trees,  crashing  bowlders,  the  sea  in  a 
storm,  and  said,  "  No,  no,  there  is  no  one 
here."  He  could  plainly  see  her  tremble. 

Of  a  sudden  he  bethought  him  that  she 
continually  kept  her  hands  behind  her.  As 
he  recalled  her  air  when  first  discovered,  he 
remembered  she  appeared  precisely  as  a  child 
detected  at  one  of  the  crimes  of  childhood. 
Moreover,  she  had  always  backed  away  from 
him.  He  thought  now  that  she  was  conceal- 
ing something  which  was  an  evidence  of  the 
presence  of  the  enemy  in  the  house. 

"  What  are  you  holding  behind  you  ?  "  he 
said  suddenly. 

She  gave  a  little  quick  moan,  as  if  some 
grim  hand  had  throttled  her. 

"  What  are  you  holding  behind  you  ?  " 


:66  A  GRAY  SLEEVE. 

"  Oh,  nothing — please.  I  am  not  holding 
anything  behind  me  ;  indeed  I'm  not." 

"  Very  well.  Hold  your  hands  out  in 
front  of  you,  then." 

"  Oh,  indeed  ,  I'm  not  holding  anything 
behind  me.  Indeed,  I'm  not." 

"  Well,"  he  began.  Then  he  paused,  and 
remained  for  a  moment  dubious.  Finally,  he 
laughed.  "  Well,  I  shall  have  my  men  search 
the  house,  anyhow.  I'm  sorry  to  trouble  you, 
but  I  feel  sure  that  there  is  some  one  here 
whom  we  want."  He  turned  to  the  corporal, 
who  with  the  other  men  was  gaping  quietly 
in  at  the  door,  and  said,  "  Jones,  go  through 
the  house." 

As  for  himself,  he  remained  planted  in 
front  of  the  girl,  for  she  evidently  did  not 
dare  to  move  and  allow  him  to  see  what  she 
held  so  carefully  behind  her  back.  So  she 
was  his  prisoner. 

The  men  rummaged  around  on  the  ground 
floor  of  the  house.  Sometimes  the  captain 
called  to  them,  "  Try  that  closet,"  "  Is  there 


A  GRAY  SLEEVE.  ^7 

any  cellar  ?  "  But  they  found  no  one,  and  at 
last  they  went  trooping  toward  the  stairs 
which  led  to  the  second  floor. 

But  at  this  movement  on  the  part  of  the 
men  the  girl  uttered  a  cry — a  cry  of  such 
fright  and  appeal  that  the  men  paused.  "  Oh, 
don't  go  up  there  !  Please  don't  go  up  there ! 
— pie — ease !  There  is  no  one  there  !  Indeed 
— indeed  there  is  not !  Oh,  pie — ease ! " 

"  Go  on,  Jones,"  said  the  captain  calmly. 

The  obedient  corporal  made  a  preliminary 
step,  and  the  girl  bounded  toward  the  stairs 
with  another  cry. 

As  she  passed  him,  the  captain  caught 
sight  of  that  which  she  had  concealed  behind 
her  back,  and  which  she  had  forgotten  in  this 
supreme  moment.  It  was  a  pistol. 

She  ran  to  the  first  step,  and  standing 
there,  faced  the  men,  one  hand  extended  with 
perpendicular  palm,  and  the  other  holding 
the  pistol  at  her  side.  "  Oh,  please,  don't  go 
up  there!  Nobody  is  there — indeed,  there 
is  not !  P-1-e-a-s-e !  "  Then  suddenly  she  sank 


1 68  A  GRAY   SLEEVE. 

swiftly  down  upon  the  step,  and,  huddling 
forlornly,  began  to  weep  in  the  agony  and 
with  the  convulsive  tremors  of  an  infant. 
The  pistol  fell  from  her  fingers  and  rattled 
down  to  the  floor. 

The  astonished  troopers  looked  at  their 
astonished  captain.  There  was  a  short  si- 
lence. 

Finally,  the  captain  stooped  and  picked  up 
the  pistol.  It  was  a  heavy  weapon  of  the 
army  pattern.  He  ascertained  that  it  was 
empty. 

He  leaned  toward  the  shaking  girl,  and 
said  gently,  "  Will  you  tell  me  what  you 
were  going  to  do  with  this  pistol  ?  " 

He  had  to  repeat  the  question  a  number  of 
times,  but  at  last  a  muffled  voice  said,  "  Noth- 
ing." 

"  Nothing  !  "  He  insisted  quietly  upon  a 
further  answer.  At  the  tender  tones  of  the 
captain's  voice,  the  phlegmatic  corporal  turned 
and  winked  gravely  at  the  man  next  to  him. 

"  Won't  you  tell  me  ?  " 


A  GRAY  SLEEVE.  rfg 

The  girl  shook  her  head. 

"  Please  tell  me  !  " 

The  silent  privates  were  moving  their  feet 
uneasily  and  wondering  how  long  they  were 
to  wait. 

The  captain  said,  "  Please  won't  you  tell 
me  ?  " 

Then  this  girl's  voice  began  in  stricken 
tones  half  coherent,  and  amid  violent  sobbing : 
"  It  was  grandpa's.  He — he — he  said  he  was 
going  to  shoot  anybody  who  came  in  here — 
he  didn't  care  if  there  were  thousands  of  'em. 
And — and  I  know  he  would,  and  I  was  afraid 
they'd  kill  him.  And  so — and — so  I  stole 
away  his  pistol — and  I  was  going  to  hide  it 
when  you — you — you  kicked  open  the  door." 

The  men  straightened  up  and  looked  at 
each  other.  The  girl  began  to  weep  again. 

The  captain  mopped  his  brow.  He  peered 
down  at  the  girl.  He  mopped  his  brow  again. 
Suddenly  he  said,  "  Ah,  don't  cry  like  that." 

He  moved  restlessly  and  looked  down  at 
his  boots.  He  mopped  his  brow  again. 


A  GRAY  SLEEVE. 

Then  he  gripped  the  corporal  by  the  arm 
and  dragged  him  some  yards  back  from  the 
others.  "  Jones,"  he  said,  in  an  intensely  ear- 
nest voice,  "  will  you  tell  me  what  in  the  devil 
I  am  going  to  do  ?  " 

The  corporal's  countenance  became  illumi- 
nated with  satisfaction  at  being  thus  requested 
to  advise  his  superior  officer.  He  adopted 
an  air  of  great  thought,  and  finally  said  : 
"  Well,  of  course,  the  feller  with  the  gray 
sleeve  must  be  upstairs,  and  we  must  get  past 
the  girl  and  up  there  somehow.  Suppose  I 
take  her  by  the  arm  and  lead  her " 

"  What !  "  interrupted  the  captain  from  be- 
tween his  clinched  teeth.  As  he  turned  away 
from  the  corporal,  he  said  fiercely  over  his 
shoulder,  "  You  touch  that  girl  and  I'll  split 
your  skull!" 

III. 

THE  corporal  looked  after  his  captain  with 
an  expression  of  mingled  amazement,  grief, 
and  philosophy.  He  seemed  to  be  saying  to 


A  GRAY  SLEEVE.  iji 

himself  that  there  unfortunately  were  times, 
after  all,  when  one  could  not  rely  upon  the 
most  reliable  of  men.  When  he  returned  to 
the  group  he  found  the  captain  bending  over 
the  girl  and  saying,  "  Why  is  it  that  you  don't 
want  us  to  search  upstairs  ?  " 

The  girl's  head  was  buried  in  her  crossed 
arms.  Locks  of  her  hair  had  escaped  from 
their  fastenings  and  these  fell  upon  her 
shoulder. 

"Won't  you  tell  me?" 

The  corporal  here  winked  again  at  the  man 
next  to  him. 

"  Because,"  the  girl  moaned — "  because — 
there  isn't  anybody  up  there." 

The  captain  at  last  said  timidly,  "  Well, 
I'm  afraid — I'm  afraid  we'll  have  to " 

The  girl  sprang  to  her  feet  again,  and  im- 
plored him  with  her  hands.  She  looked  deep 
into  his  eyes  with  her  glance,  which  was  at 
this  time  like  that  of  the  fawn  when  it  says 
to  the  hunter,  "  Have  mercy  upon  me  ! " 

These  two  stood   regarding    each  other. 

12 


172  A  GRAY  SLEEVE. 

The  captain's  foot  was  on  the  bottom  step, 
but  he  seemed  to  be  shrinking.  He  wore  an 
air  of  being  deeply  wretched  and  ashamed. 
There  was  a  silence. 

Suddenly  the  corporal  said  in  a  quick,  low 
tone,  "  Look  out,  captain  !  " 

All  turned  their  eyes  swiftly  toward  the 
head  of  the  stairs.  There  had  appeared  there 
a  youth  in  a  gray  uniform.  He  stood  look- 
ing coolly  down  at  them.  No  word  was  said 
by  the  troopers.  The  girl  gave  vent  to  a  lit- 
tle wail  of  desolation,  "  O  Harry ! " 

He  began  slowly  to  descend  the  stairs.  His 
right  arm  was  in  a  white  sling,  and  there  were 
some  fresh  blood  stains  upon  the  cloth.  His 
face  was  rigid  and  deathly  pale,  but  his  eyes 
flashed  like  lights.  The  girl  was  again  moan- 
ing in  an  utterly  dreary  fashion,  as  the  youth 
came  slowly  down  toward  the  silent  men  in 
blue. 

Six  steps  from  the  bottom  of  the  flight  he 
halted  and  said,  "  I  reckon  it's  me  you're  look- 
ing for." 


A  GRAY  SLEEVE.  ^3 

The  troopers  had  crowded  forward  a  trifle 
and,  posed  in  lithe,  nervous  attitudes,  were 
watching  him  like  cats.  The  captain  re- 
mained unmoved.  At  the  youth's  ques- 
tion he  merely  nodded  his  head  and  said, 
•'  Yes." 

The  young  man  in  gray  looked  down  at 
the  girl,  and  then,  in  the  same  even  tone  which 
now,  however,  seemed  to  vibrate  with  sup- 
pressed fury,  he  said,  "  And  is  that  any  rea- 
son why  you  should  insult  my  sister  ?  " 

At  this  sentence,  the  girl  intervened,  des- 
perately, between  the  young  man  in  gray  and 
the  officer  in  blue.  "  Oh,  don't,  Harry,  don't ! 
He  was  good  to  me !  He  was  good  to  me, 
Harry — indeed  he  was  !  " 

The  youth  came  on  in  his  quiet,  erect  fash- 
ion until  the  girl  could  have  touched  either  of 
the  men  with  her  hand,  for  the  captain  still 
remained  with  his  foot  upon  the  first  step. 
She  continually  repeated :  "  O  Harry !  O 
Harry ! " 

The  youth  in  gray  manoeuvred  to  glare 


174 


A  GRAY  SLEEVE. 


into  the  captain's  face,  first  over  one  shoulder 
of  the  girl  and  then  over  the  other.  In  a 
voice  that  rang  like  metal,  he  said :  "  You 
are  armed  and  unwounded,  while  I  have  no 
weapons  and  am  wounded  ;  but " 

The  captain  had  stepped  back  and 
sheathed  his  sabre.  The  eyes  of  these  two 
men  were  gleaming  fire,  but  otherwise  the 
captain's  countenance  was  imperturbable. 
He  said :  "  You  are  mistaken.  You  have  no 
reason  to " 

"You  lie!" 

All  save  the  captain  and  the  youth  in 
gray  started  in  an  electric  movement.  These 
two  words  crackled  in  the  air  like  shattered 
glass.  There  was  a  breathless  silence. 

The  captain  cleared  his  throat.  His  look 
at  the  youth  contained  a  quality  of  singular 
and  terrible  ferocity,  but  he  said  in  his  stolid 
tone,  "  I  don't  suppose  you  mean  what  you 
say  now." 

Upon  his  arm  he  had  felt  the  pressure  of 
some  unconscious  little  fingers.  The  girl  was 


A  GRAY  SLEEVE.  175 

leaning  against  the  wall  as  if  she  no  longer 
knew  how  to  keep  her  balance,  but  those 
fingers — he  held  his  arm  very  still.  She  mur- 
mured :  "  O  Harry,  don't !  He  was  good  to 
me — indeed  he  was ! " 

The  corporal  had  come  forward  until  he 
in  a  measure  confronted  the  youth  in  gray, 
for  he  saw  those  fingers  upon  the  captain's 
arm,  and  he  knew  that  sometimes  very 
strong  men  were  not  able  to  move  hand  nor 
foot  under  such  conditions. 

The  youth  had  suddenly  seemed  to  be- 
come weak.  He  breathed  heavily  and  clung 
to  the  rail.  He  was  glaring  at  the  captain, 
and  apparently  summoning  all  his  will  power 
to  combat  his  weakness.  The  corporal  ad- 
dressed him  with  profound  straightforward- 
ness, "  Don't  you  be  a  derned  fool !  "  The 
youth  turned  toward  him  so  fiercely  that  the 
corporal  threw  up  a  knee  and  an  elbow  like 
a  boy  who  expects  to  be  cuffed. 

The  girl  pleaded  with  the  captain.  "  You 
won't  hurt  him,  will  you?  He  don't  know 


A  GRAY  SLEEVE. 

what  he's  saying.  He's  wounded,  you  know. 
Please  don't  mind  him  !  " 

"  I  won't  touch  him,"  said  the  captain, 
with  rather  extraordinary  earnestness ;  "  don't 
you  worry  about  him  at  all.  I  won't  touch 
him ! " 

Then  he  looked  at  her,  and  the  girl  sud- 
denly withdrew  her  fingers  from  his  arm. 

The  corporal  contemplated  the  top  of 
the  stairs,  and  remarked  without  surprise, 
"  There's  another  of  'em  coming !  " 

An  old  man  was  clambering  down  the 
stairs  with  much  speed.  He  waved  a  cane 
wildly.  "  Get  out  of  my  house,  you  thieves ! 
Get  out !  I  won't  have  you  cross  my 
threshold!  Get  out!"  He  mumbled  and 
wagged  his  head  in  an  old  man's  fury.  It 
was  plainly  his  intention  to  assault  them. 

And  so  it  occurred  that  a  young  girl 
became  engaged  in  protecting  a  stalwart 
captain,  fully  armed,  and  with  eight  grim 
troopers  at  his  back,  from  the  attack  of  an 
old  man  with  a  walking-stick! 


A  GRAY  SLEEVE. 

A  blush  passed  over  the  temples  and 
brow  of  the  captain,  and  he  looked  particu- 
larly savage  and  weary.  Despite  the  girl's 
efforts,  he  suddenly  faced  the  old  man. 

"  Look  here,"  he  said  distinctly,  "  we  came 
in  because  we  had  been  fighting  in  the  woods 
yonder,  and  we  concluded  that  some  of  the 
enemy  were  in  this  house,  especially  when 
we  saw  a  gray  sleeve  at  the  window.  But 
this  young  man  is  wounded,  and  I  have  noth- 
ing to  say  to  him.  I  will  even  take  it  for 
granted  that  there  are  no  others  like  him 
upstairs.  We  will  go  away,  leaving  your 

d d  old  house  just  as  we  found  it !     And 

we  are  no  more  thieves  and  rascals  than  you 
are !  " 

The  old  man  simply  roared  :  "  I  haven't 
got  a  cow  nor  a  pig  nor  a  chicken  on  the 
place !  Your  soldiers  have  stolen  everything 
they  could  carry  away.  They  have  torn 
down  half  my  fences  for  firewood.  This 
afternoon  some  of  your  accursed  bullets  even 
broke  my  window  panes!" 


A  GRAY  SLEEVE. 

The  girl  had  been  faltering :  "  Grandpa ! 
O  grandpa ! " 

The  captain  looked  at  the  girl.  She  re- 
turned his  glance  from  the  shadow  of  the 
old  man's  shoulder.  After  studying  her  face 
a  moment,  he  said,  "  Well,  we  will  go  now." 
He  strode  toward  the  door  and  his  men 
clanked  docilely  after  him. 

At  this  time  there  was  the  sound  of  harsh 
cries  and  rushing  footsteps  from  without. 
The  door  flew  open,  and  a  whirlwind  com- 
posed of  blue-coated  troopers  came  in  with 
a  swoop.  It  was  headed  by  the  lieutenant. 
"Oh,  here  you  are!"  he  cried,  catching  his 

breath.  "  We  thought Oh,  look  at  the 

girl!" 

The  captain  said  intensely,  "  Shut  up, 
you  fool ! " 

The  men  settled  to  a  halt  with  a  clash 
and  a  bang.  There  could  be  heard  the  dulled 
sound  of  many  hoofs  outside  of  the  house. 

"  Did  you  order  up  the  horses?  "  inquired 
the  captain. 


A  GRAY   SLEEVE. 


179 


"Yes.     We  thought " 

"  Well,  then,  let's  get  out  of  here,"  inter- 
rupted the  captain  morosely. 

The  men  began  fo  filter  out  into  the  open 
air.  The  youth  in  gray  had  been  hanging 
dismally  to  the  railing  of  the  stairway.  He 
now  was  climbing  slowly  up  to  the  second 
floor.  The  old  man  was  addressing  himself 
directly  to  the  serene  corporal. 

"  Not  a  chicken  on  the  place ! "  he 
cried. 

"Well,  I  didn't  take  your  chickens, 
did  I?" 

"  No,  maybe  you  didn't,  but " 

The  captain  crossed  the  hall  and  stood 
before  the  girl  in  rather  a  culprit's  fashion. 
"  You  are  not  angry  at  me,  are  you  ? "  he 
asked  timidly. 

"  No,"  she  said.  She  hesitated  a  moment, 
and  then  suddenly  held  out  her  hand.  "  You 
were  good  to  me — and  I'm — much  obliged." 

The  captain  took  her  hand,  and  then  he 
blushed,  for  he  found  himself  unable  to  for- 


A  GRAY  SLEEVE. 

mulate  a  sentence  that  applied  in  any  way  to 
the  situation. 

She  did  not  seem  to  heed  that  hand  for  a 
time. 

He  loosened  his  grasp  presently,  for  he 
was  ashamed  to  hold  it  so  long-  without  say- 
ing anything  clever.  At  last,  with  an  air  of 
charging  an  intrenched  brigade,  he  contrived 
to  say,  "  I  would  rather  do  anything  than 
frighten  or  trouble  you." 

His  brow  was  warmly  perspiring.  He 
had  a  sense  of  being  hideous  in  his  dusty  uni- 
form and  with  his  grimy  face. 

She  said,  "  Oh,  I'm  so  glad  it  was  you 
instead  of  somebody  who  might  have — might 
have  hurt  brother  Harry  and  grandpa !  " 

He  told  her,  "  I  wouldn't  have  hurt  'em 
for  anything ! " 

There  was  a  little  silence. 

"  Well,  good-bye !  "  he  said  at  last. 

"  Good-bye !  " 

He  walked  toward  the  door  past  the  old 
man,  who  was  scolding  at  the  vanishing  figure 


A  GRAY  SLEEVE.  jgj; 

of  the  corporal.  The  captain  looked  back. 
She  had  remained  there  watching  him. 

At  the  bugle's  order,  the  troopers  stand- 
ing beside  their  horses  swung  briskly  into  the 
saddle.  The  lieutenant  said  to  the  first  ser- 
geant : 

"  Williams,  did  they  ever  meet  before  ?  " 

"  Hanged  if  I  know !  " 

"Well,  say " 

The  captain  saw  a  curtain  move  at  one  of 
the  windows.  He  cantered  from  his  position 
at  the  head  of  the  column  and  steered  his 
horse  between  two  flower  beds. 

"  Well,  good-bye  !  " 

The  squadron  trampled  slowly  past. 

"  Good-bye !  " 

They  shook  hands. 

He  evidently  had  something  enormously 
important  to  say  to  her,  but  it  seems  that  he 
could  not  manage  it.  He  struggled  heroic- 
ally. The  bay  charger,  with  his  great  mys- 
tically solemn  eyes,  looked  around  the  corner 
of  his  shoulder  at  the  girl. 


A  GRAY   SLEEVE. 

The  captain  studied  a  pine  tree.  The  girl 
inspected  the  grass  beneath  the  window.  The 
captain  said  hoarsely,  "  I  don't  suppose — I 
don't  suppose — I'll  ever  see  you  again !  " 

She  looked  at  him  affrightedly  and  shrank 
back  from  the  window.  He  seemed  to  have 
woefully  expected  a  reception  of  this  kind  for 
his  question.  He  gave  her  instantly  a  glance 
of  appeal. 

She  said,  "Why,  no,  I  don't  suppose  we 
will." 

"  Never  ?  " 

"  Why,  no,  'tain't  possible.  You — you  are 
a— Yankee ! " 

"Oh,  I  know  it,  but "  Eventually  he 

continued,  "  Well,  some  day,  you  know,  when 

there's  no  more  fighting,  we  might "  He 

observed  that  she  had  again  withdrawn  sud- 
denly into  the  shadow,  so  he  said,  "  Well, 
good-bye  ! " 

When  he  held  her  fingers  she  bowed  her 
head,  and  he  saw  a  pink  blush  steal  over  the 
curves  of  her  cheek  and  neck. 


A  GRAY  SLEEVE.  ^3 

"  Am  I  never  going  to  see  you  again  ?  " 

She  made  no  reply. 

"  Never  ?  "  he  repeated. 

After  a  long  time,  he  bent  over  to  hear 
a  faint  reply  :  "  Sometimes — when  there  are 
no  troops  in  the  neighbourhood — grandpa 
don't  mind  if  I — walk  over  as  far  as  that  old 
oak  tree  yonder — in  the  afternoons." 

It  appeared  that  the  captain's  grip  was 
very  strong,  for  she  uttered  an  exclamation 
and  looked  at  her  fingers  as  if  she  expected  to 
find  them  mere  fragments.  He  rode  away. 

The  bay  horse  leaped  a  flower  bed.  They 
were  almost  to  the  drive,  when  the  girl  ut- 
tered a  panic-stricken  cry. 

The  captain  wheeled  his  horse  violently 
and  upon  his  return  journey  went  straight 
through  a  flower  bed. 

The  girl  had  clasped  her  hands.  She  be- 
seeched  him  wildly  with  her  eyes.  "  Oh, 
please,  don't  believe  it !  I  never  walk  to  the 
old  oak  tree.  Indeed,  I  don't!  I  never — 
never — never  walk  there." 


1 84  A  GRAY  SLEEVE. 

The  bridle  drooped  on  the  bay  charger's 
neck.  The  captain's  figure  seemed  limp. 
With  an  expression  of  profound  dejection  and 
gloom  he  stared  off  at  where  the  leaden  sky 
met  the  dark  green  line  of  the  woods.  The 
long-impending  rain  began  to  fall  with  a 
mournful  patter,  drop  and  drop.  There  was 
a  silence. 

At  last  a  low  voice  said,  "  Well — I  might 
— sometimes  I  might — perhaps — but  only 
once  in  a  great  while — I  might  walk  to  the 
old  tree — in  the  afternoons." 


THE  VETERAN. 


OUT  of  the  low  window  could  be  seen 
three  hickory  trees  placed  irregularly  in  a 
meadow  that  was  resplendent  in  springtime 
green.  Farther  away,  the  old,  dismal  belfry 
of  the  village  church  loomed  over  the  pines. 
A  horse  meditating  in  the  shade  of  one  of 
the  hickories  lazily  swished  his  tail.  The 
warm  sunshine  made  an  oblong  of  vivid 
yellow  on  the  floor  of  the  grocery. 

"  Could  you  see  the  whites  of  their 
eyes  ? "  said  the  man  who  was  seated  on  a 
soap  box. 

"  Nothing  of  the  kind,"  replied  old  Henry 
warmly.  "Just  a  lot  of  flitting  figures,  and 
I  let  go  at  where  they  'peared  to  be  the 

thickest.     Bang !  " 

185 


1 86  THE  VETERAN. 

"  Mr.  Fleming,"  said  the  grocer — his  def- 
erential voice  expressed  somehow  the  old 
man's  exact  social  weight — "  Mr.  Fleming, 
you  never  was  frightened  much  in  them 
battles,  was  you  ?  " 

The  veteran  looked  down  and  grinned. 
Observing  his  manner,  the  entire  group  tit- 
tered. "  Well,  I  guess  I  was,"  he  answered 
finally.  "  Pretty  well  scared,  sometimes. 
Why,  in  my  first  battle  I  thought  the  sky 
was  falling  down.  I  thought  the  world 
was  coming  to  an  end.  You  bet  I  was 
scared." 

Every  one  laughed.  Perhaps  it  seemed 
strange  and  rather  wonderful  to  them  that 
a  man  should  admit  the  thing,  and  in  the 
tone  of  their  laughter  there  was  probably 
more  admiration  than  if  old  Fleming  had 
declared  that  he  had  always  been  a  lion. 
Moreover,  they  knew  that  he  had  ranked 
as  an  orderly  sergeant,  and  so  their  opinion 
of  his  heroism  was  fixed.  None,  to  be  sure, 
knew  how  an  orderly  sergeant  ranked,  but 


THE  VETERAN.  jgjr 

then  it  was  understood  to  be  somewhere 
just  shy  of  a  major  general's  stars.  So, 
when  old  Henry  admitted  that  he  had  been 
frightened,  there  was  a  laugh. 

"  The  trouble  was,"  said  the  old  man, 
"  I  thought  they  were  all  shooting  at  me. 
Yes,  sir,  I  thought  every  man  in  the 
other  army  was  aiming  at  me  in  particular, 
and  only  me.  And  it  seemed  so  darned 
unreasonable,  you  know.  I  wanted  to  ex- 
plain to  'em  what  an  almighty  good  fel- 
low I  was,  because  I  thought  then  they 
might  quit  all  trying  to  hit  me.  But  I 
couldn't  explain,  and  they  kept  on  being 
unreasonable  —  blim!  —  blam  !  —  bang!  So  I 
run ! " 

Two  little  triangles  of  wrinkles  appeared 
at  the  corners  of  his  eyes.  Evidently  he 
appreciated  some  comedy  in  this  recital. 
Down  near  his  feet,  however,  little  Jim, 
his  grandson,  was  visibly  horror-stricken. 
His  hands  were  clasped  nervously,  and  his 

eyes   were    wide   with    astonishment    at  this 
13 


1 88  THE  VETERAN. 

terrible  scandal,  his  most  magnificent  grand- 
father telling  such  a  thing. 

"  That  was  at  Chancellorsville.  Of  course, 
afterward  I  got  kind  of  used  to  it.  A  man 
does.  Lots  of  men,  though,  seem  to  feel  all 
right  from  the  start.  I  did,  as  soon  as  I 
*  got  on  to  it/  as  they  say  now  ;  but  at  first 
I  was  pretty  well  flustered.  Now,  there  was 
young  Jim  Conklin,  old  Si  Conklin's  son — 
that  used  to  keep  the  tannery  —  you  none 
of  you  recollect  him — well,  he  went  into  it 
from  the  start  just  as  if  he  was  born  to  it. 
But  with  me  it  was  different.  I  had  to  get 
used  to  it." 

When  little  Jim  walked  with  his  grand- 
father he  was  in  the  habit  of  skipping  along 
on  the  stone  pavement  in  front  of  the  three 
stores  and  the  hotel  of  the  town  and  bet- 
ting that  he  could  avoid  the  cracks.  But 
upon  this  day  he  walked  soberly,  with  his 
hand  gripping  two  of  his  grandfather's 
fingers.  Sometimes  he  kicked  abstracted- 
ly at  dandelions  that  curved  over  the  walk. 


THE  VETERAN. 

Any  one  could  see  that  he  was  much 
troubled. 

"  There's  Sickles's  colt  over  in  the  med- 
der,  Jimmie,"  said  the  old  man.  "  Don't 
you  wish  you  owned  one  like  him  ?  " 

"  Um,"  said  the  boy,  with  a  strange  lack 
of  interest.  He  continued  his  reflections. 
Then  finally  he  ventured,  "  Grandpa — now 
— was  that  true  what  you  was  telling  those 
men  ?  " 

"  What  ?  "  asked  the  grandfather.  "  What 
was  I  telling  them  ?  " 

"  Oh,  about  your  running." 

"  Why,  yes,  that  was  true  enough,  Jim- 
mie.  It  was  my  first  fight,  and  there  was 
an  awful  lot  of  noise,  you  know." 

Jimmie  seemed  dazed  that  this  idol,  of 
its  own  will,  should  so  totter.  His  stout 
boyish  idealism  was  injured. 

Presently  the  grandfather  said  :  "  Sickles's 
colt  is  going  for  a  drink.  Don't  you  wish 
you  owned  Sickles's  colt,  Jimmie  ?  " 

The  boy  merely  answered,    "  He  ain't   as 


THE  VETERAN. 

nice  as  our'n."     He  lapsed  then  into  another 
moody  silence. 

One  of  the  hired  men,  a  Swede,  desired 
to  drive  to  the  county  seat  for  purposes  of 
his  own.  The  old  man  loaned  a  horse  and 
an  unwashed  buggy.  It  appeared  later  that 
one  of  the  purposes  of  the  Swede  was  to 
get  drunk. 

After  quelling  some  boisterous  frolic  of 
the  farm  hands  and  boys  in  the  garret,  the 
old  man  had  that  night  gone  peacefully  to 
sleep,  when  he  was  aroused  by  clamouring  at 
the  kitchen  door.  He  grabbed  his  trousers, 
and  they  waved  out  behind  as  he  dashed 
forward.  He  could  hear  the  voice  of  the 
Swede,  screaming  and  blubbering.  He 
pushed  the  wooden  button,  and,  as  the 
door  flew  open,  the  Swede,  a  maniac, 
stumbled  inward,  chattering,  weeping,  still 
screaming  :  "  De  barn  fire  !  Fire  !  Fire  ! 
De  barn  fire  !  Fire  !  Fire  !  Fire  !  " 

There    was    a    swift     and     indescribable 


THE  VETERAN.  !Q! 

change  in  the  old  man.  His  face  ceased 
instantly  to  be  a  face  ;  it  became  a  mask,  a 
gray  thing,  with  horror  written  about  the 
mouth  and  eyes.  He  hoarsely  shouted  at 
the  foot  of  the  little  rickety  stairs,  and 
immediately,  it  seemed,  there  came  down  an 
avalanche  of  men.  No  one  knew  that  dur- 
ing this  time  the  old  lady  had  been  stand- 
ing in  her  night  clothes  at  the  bedroom 
door,  yelling:  "What's  th'  matter?  What's 
th'  matter?  What's  th'  matter?" 

When  they  dashed  toward  the  barn  it 
presented  to  their  eyes  its  usual  appear- 
ance, solemn,  rather  mystic  in  the  black 
night.  The  Swede's  lantern  was  overturned 
at  a  point  some  yards  in  front  of  the  barn 
doors.  It  contained  a  wild  little  conflagra- 
tion of  its  own,  and  even  in  their  excite- 
ment some  of  those  who  ran  felt  a  gentle 
secondary  vibration  of  the  thrifty  part  of 
their  minds  at  sight  of  this  overturned 
lantern.  Under  ordinary  circumstances  it 
would  have  been  a  calamity. 


1 92  THE   VETERAN. 

But  the  cattle  in  the  barn  were  tram- 
pling, trampling,  trampling,  and  above  this 
noise  could  be  heard  a  humming  like  the 
song  of  innumerable  bees.  The  old  man 
hurled  aside  the  great  doors,  and  a  yellow 
flame  leaped  out  at  one  corner  and  sped 
and  wavered  frantically  up  the  old  gray 
wall.  It  was  glad,  terrible,  this  single 
flame,  like  the  wild  banner  of  deadly  and 
triumphant  foes. 

The  motley  crowd  from  the  garret  had 
come  with  all  the  pails  of  the  farm.  They 
flung  themselves  upon  the  well.  It  was  a 
leisurely  old  machine,  long  dwelling  in  in- 
dolence. It  was  in  the  habit  of  giving  out 
water  with  a  sort  of  reluctance.  The  men 
stormed  at  it,  cursed  it ;  but  it  continued  to 
allow  the  buckets  to  be  filled  only  after 
the  wheezy  windlass  had  howled  many 
protests  at  the  mad-handed  men. 

With  his  opened  knife  in  his  hand  old 
Fleming  himself  had  gone  headlong  into 
the  barn,  where  the  stifling  smoke  swirled 


THE   VETERAN. 

with  the  air  currents,  and  where  could  be 
heard  in  its  fulness  the  terrible  chorus  of 
the  flames,  laden  with  tones  of  hate  and 
death,  a  hymn  of  wonderful  ferocity. 

He  flung  a  blanket  over  an  old  mare's 
head,  cut  the  halter  close  to  the  manger, 
led  the  mare  to  the  door,  and  fairly  kicked 
her  out  to  safety.  He  returned  with  the 
same  blanket,  and  rescued  one  of  the  work 
horses.  He  took  five  horses  out,  and  then 
came  out  himself,  with  his  clothes  bravely 
on  fire.  He  had  no  whiskers,  and  very 
little  hair  on  his  head.  They  soused  five 
pailfuls  of  water  on  him.  His  eldest  son 
made  a  clean  miss  with  the  sixth  pailful, 
because  the  old  man  had  turned  and  was 
running  down  the  decline  and  around  to 
the  basement  of  the  barn,  where  were  the 
stanchions  of  the  cows.  Some  one  noticed 
at  the  time  that  he  ran  very  lamely,  as  if 
one  of  the  frenzied  horses  had  smashed  his 
hip. 

The  cows,  with   their  heads   held   in  the 


194 


THE  VETERAN. 


heavy  stanchions,  had  thrown  themselves, 
strangled  themselves,  tangled  themselves : 
done  everything  which  the  ingenuity  of 
their  exuberant  fear  could  suggest  to 
them. 

Here,  as  at  the  well,  the  same  thing  hap- 
pened to  every  man  save  one.  Their  hands 
went  mad.  They  became  incapable  of 
everything  save  the  power  to  rush  into 
dangerous  situations. 

The  old  man  released  the  cow  nearest 
the  door,  and  she,  blind  drunk  with  terror, 
crashed  into  the  Swede.  The  Swede  had 
been  running  to  and  fro  babbling.  He 
carried  an  empty  milk  pail,  to  which  he 
clung  with  an  unconscious,  fierce  enthusi- 
asm. He  shrieked  like  one  lost  as  he  went 
under  the  cow's  hoofs,  and  the  milk  pail, 
rolling  across  the  floor,  made  a  flash  of 
silver  in  the  gloom. 

Old  Fleming  took  a  fork,  beat  off  the 
cow,  and  dragged  the  paralyzed  Swede  to 
the  open  air.  When  they  had  rescued  all 


THE  VETERAN.  j^tj 

the  cows  save  one,  which  had  so  fastened 
herself  that  she  could  not  be  moved  an 
inch,  they  returned  to  the  front  of  the 
barn  and  stood  sadly,  breathing  like  men 
who  had  reached  the  final  point  of  human 
effort. 

Many  people  had  come  running.  Some 
one  had  even  gone  to  the  church,  and 
now,  from  the  distance,  rang  the  tocsin 
note  of  the  old  bell.  There  was  a  long 
flare  of  crimson  on  the  sky,  which  made 
remote  people  speculate  as  to  the  where- 
abouts of  the  fire. 

The  long  flames  sang  their  drumming 
chorus  in  voices  of  the  heaviest  bass. 
The  wind  whirled  clouds  of  smoke  and  cin- 
ders into  the  faces  of  the  spectators.  The 
form  of  the  old  barn  was  outlined  in  black 
amid  these  masses  of  orange-hued  flames. 

And  then  came  this  Swede  again,  crying 
as  one  who  is  the  weapon  of  the  sinister 
fates.  "  De  colts !  De  colts !  You  have 
forgot  de  colts  !  " 


196  THE  VETERAN. 

Old  Fleming-  staggered.  It  was  true ; 
they  had  forgotten  the  two  colts  in  the 
box  stalls  at  the  back  of  the  barn.  "  Boys," 
he  said,  "  I  must  try  to  get  'em  out." 
They  clamoured  about  him  then,  afraid  for 
him,  afraid  of  what  they  should  see.  Then 
they  talked  wildly  each  to  each.  "  Why, 
it's  sure  death ! "  "  He  would  never  get 
out ! "  "  Why,  it's  suicide  for  a  man  to 
go  in  there !  "  Old  Fleming  stared  absent- 
mindedly  at  the  open  doors.  "  The  poor 
little  things  !  "  he  said.  He  rushed  into  the 
barn. 

When  the  roof  fell  in,  a  great  funnel  of 
smoke  swarmed  toward  the  sky,  as  if  the 
old  man's  mighty  spirit,  released  from  its 
body — a  little  bottle — had  swelled  like  the 
genie  of  fable.  The  smoke  was  tinted 
rose-hue  from  the  flames,  and  perhaps  the 
unutterable  midnights  of  the  universe  will 
have  no  power  to  daunt  the  colour  of  this 
soul. 

THE  END. 


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7DOUND    THE   RED    LAMP.      Being  Facts  and 
X*1    Fancies  of  Medical  Life.     I2mo.     Cloth,  $1.50. 

"Too  much  can  not  be  said  in  praise  of  these  strong  productions,  that,  to  read, 
keep  one's  heart  leaping  to  the  throat  and  the  mind  in  a  tumult  of  anticipation  to  the 
end.  .  .  .  No  series  of  short  stories  in  modern  literature  can  approach  them." — Hart- 
ford Times. 

"  If  Dr.  A.  Conan  Doyle  had  not  already  placed  himself  in  the  front  rank  of  living 
English  writers  by  '  The  Refugees,'  and  other  of  his  larger  'tories,  he  would  surely  do 
so  by  these  fifteen  short  tales/' — New  York  Mail  and  Express. 

"A  strikingly  realistic  and  decidedly  original  contribution  to  modern  literature."— 
Boston  Saturday  Evening  Gazette. 


New  York :   D.  APPLETON  &  CO.,  72  Fifth  Avenue. 


D.  APPLETON  &  CO.'S  PUBLICATIONS. 


A  Tale  of  the  New  York  Ghetto.  By  A.  CAHAN. 
Uniform  with  "  The  Red  Badge  of  Courage."  I2mo.  Cloth, 
$1.00. 

"  A  new  and  striking  tale  ;  the  charm,  the  verity,  the  literary  quality  of  the  book  de- 
pend upon  its  study  of  character,  its  '  local  color,'  its  revelation  to  Americans  of  a  social 
state  at  their  very  doors  of  which  they  have  known  nothing."  —  New  York  Times. 

"  The  story  is  a  revelation  to  us.  It  is  written  in  a  spirited,  breezy  way,  with  an 
originality  in  the  telling  of  which  is  quite  unexpected.  The  dialect  is  striking  in  its 
truth  to  Nature."  —  Boston  Courier. 

"  Is  in  all  probability  the  only  true  picture  we  have  yet  had  of  that  most  densely 
populated  spot  on  the  face  of  the  earth—  the  ghetto  of  the  metropolis,  rather  the  me- 
tropolis of  the  ghettos  of  the  world."—  New  York  Journal. 

"  A  series  of  vivid  pictures  of  a  strange  people.  .  .  .  The  people  and  their  social  life 
the  author  depicts  with  marvelous  success."  —  Boston  Transcript. 

"  The  reader  will  become  deeply  interested  in  Mr.  Cahan's  graphic  presentation  of 
ghetto  life  in  New  York."  —  Minneapolis  Journal. 

"A  strong,  quaint  story."  —  Detroit  Tribune. 

"  Every  feature  of  the  book  bears  the  stamp  of  truth.  .  .  .  Undoubtedly  '  Yekl  » 
has  never  been  excelled  as  a  picture  of  the  distinctive  life  of  the  New  York  ghetto."— 
Boston  Herald, 


T 


HE  SENTIMENTAL  SEX.  By  GERTRUDE  WAR- 
DEN.    I2mo.     Cloth,  $1.00. 

"  The  cleverest  book  by  a  woman  that  has  been  published  for  months.  .  .  .  Such 
books  as  'The  Sentimental  Sex'  are  exemplars  of  a  modern  cult  that  will  not  be 
ignored." — New  York  Commercial  Advertiser. 

"  There  is  a  well- wrought  mystery  in  the  story  and  some  surprises  that  preserve 
the  reader's  interest,  and  render  it,  when  all  is  said,  a  story  of  considerable  charm." — 
Boston  Courier. 

"  An  uncommonly  knowing  little  book,  which  keeps  a  good  grip  on  the  reader  up  to 
the  last  page.  .  .  .  The  author's  method  of  handling  the  plot  is  adroit  and  original." — 
Rochester  Herald. 

"Miss  Warden  has  worked  out  her  contrasts  very  strikingly,  and  tells  her  story 
in  a  cleverly  flippant  way,  which  keeps  the  reader  on  the  qui  vive  for  the  cynical  but 
bright  sayings  she  has  interspersed." — Detroit  Free  Press. 

"  The  story  forms  an  admirable  study.  The  style  is  graphic,  the  plot  original  and 
cleverly  wrought  out." — Philadelphia  Evening  Bulletin. 


New  York :  D.  APPLETON  &  CO.,  72  Fifth  Avenue. 


T 


M; 


D.   APPLETON  &  CO.'S  PUBLICATIONS. 

HE  STATEMENT  OF  STELLA  MABERLY. 
By  F.  ANSTEY,  author  of  "Vice  Versa,"  "  The  Giant's  Robe," 
etc.  i6mo.  Cloth,  special  binding,  $1.25. 

"  Most  admirably  done.  .  .  .  We  read  fascinated,  and  fully  believing  every  word 
we  read.  .  .  .  The  book  has  deeply  interested  us,  and  even  thrilled  us  more  than 
once." — London  Daily  Chronicle. 

"  A  wildly  fantastic  story,  thrilling  and  impressive.  .  .  .  Has  an  air  of  vivid  reality, 
.  .  .  of  bold  conception  and  vigorous  treatment.  .  .  .  A  very  noteworthy  novelette." — 
London  Times. 

'ARCH  HARES.  By  HAROLD  FREDERIC,  author 
of  "The  Damnation  of  Theron  Ware,"  "In  the  Valley,"  etc. 
i6mo.  Cloth,  special  binding,  $1.25. 

"  One  of  the  most  cheerful  novels  we  have  chanced  upon  for  many  a  day.  It  has 
much  of  the  rapidity  and  vigor  of  a  smartly  written  farce,  with  a  pervading  freshness  a 
smartly  written  farce  rarely  possesses.  ...  A  book  decidedly  worth  reading." — Lon- 
don Saturday  Review. 

"  A  striking  and  original  story,  .  .  .  effective,  pleasing,  and  very  capable." — Lon- 
don Literary  World. 

SCREEN  GATES.  An  Analysis  of  Foolishness.  By 
***  M^.  K  M.  Q  MEREDITH  (Johanna  Staats),  author  of  "  Drum- 
sticks," etc.  i6mo.  Cloth,  $1.25. 

"  Crisp  and  delightful.  .  .  .  Fascinating,  not  so  much  for  what  it  suggests  as  for 
its  manner,  and  the  cleverly  outlined  people  who  walk  through  its  pages." — Chicago 
Times- Herald. 

"An  original  strain,  bright  and  vivacious,  and  strong  enough  in  its  foolishness  and 
its  unexpected  tragedy  to  prove  its  sterling  worth." — Boston  Herald. 

N  IMAGINA TIVE  MAN.  By  ROBERT  S.  HICH- 
ENS,  author  of  "  The  Folly  of  Eustace,"  "  The  Green  Carna- 
tion," etc.  I2mo.  Cloth,  $1.25. 

"  A  study  in  character.  .  .  .  Just  as  entertaining  as  though  it  were  the  conven- 
tional story  of  love  and  marriage.  The  clever  hand  of  the  author  of 'The  Green  Car- 
nation '  is  easily  detected  in  the  caustic  wit  and  pointed  epigram." — Jeannette  L. 
Gilder,  in  the  New  York  World. 

(^  ORR  UPTION.     By  PERCY  WHITE,  author  of  "  Mr. 
^      Bailey-Martin,"  etc.     I2mo.     Cloth,  $1.25. 

"  A  drama  of  biting  intensity.  A  tragedy  of  inflexible  purpose  and  relentless  result." 
—Pall  Mall  Gazette. 

HARD  WOMAN.  A  Story  in  Scenes.  By  VIOLET 
HUNT.  i2mo.  Cloth,  $1.25. 

"  A  good  story,  brisht,  keen,  and  dramatic.  ...  It  is  out  of  the  ordinary,  and  will 
give  you  a  new  sensation. " — New  York  Herald. 


A 


A 


New  York :   D.  APPLETON  &  CO.,  72  Fifth  Avenue. 


c 


D.  APPLETON  &  CO.'S  PUBLICATIONS. 


BY   S.  R.  CROCKETT. 

LEG    KELLY,   ARAB    OF    THE    CITY.      His 

Progress  and  Adventures.  Uniform  with  "The  Lilac  Sunbon- 
net "  and  "  Bog-Myrtle  and  Peat."  Illustrated.  I2mo.  Cloth, 
$1.50. 

"  A  masterpiece  which  Mark  Twain  himself  has  never  rivaled.  ...  If  there  ever 
was  an  ideal  character  in  fiction  it  is  this  heroic  ragamuffin." — London  Daily 
Chronicle. 

"  In  no  one  of  his  books  does  Mr.  Crockett  give  us  a  brighter  or  more  graphic 
picture  of  contemporary  Scotch  life  than  in  'Cleg  Kelly.'  ...  It  is  one  of  the  great 
books." — Boston  Daily  Advertiser. 

"One  of  the  most  successful  of  Mr.  Crockett's  works."— Brooklyn  Eagle. 


DOG-MYRTLE    AND    PEAT.       Third     edition. 
*-*     I2mo.     Cloth,  $1.50. 

"  Here  are  idyls,  epics,  dramas  of  human  life,  written  in  words  that  thrill  and 
burn.  .  .  .  Each  is  a  poem  that  has  an  immortal  flavor.  They  are  fragments  of 
the  author's  early  dreams,  too  bright,  too  gorgeous,  too  full  of  the  blood  of  rubies 
and  the  life  of  diamonds  to  be  caught  and  held  palpitating  in  expression's  grasp." 
—Boston  Courier. 

"  Hardly  a  sketch  among  them  all  that  will  not  afford  pleasure  to  the  reader  for 
its  genial  humor,  artistic  local  coloring,  and  admirable  portrayal  of  character."— 
Boston  Home  Journal. 

"  One  dips  into  the  book  anywhere  and  reads  on  and  on,  fascinated  by  the  writer's 
charm  of  manner." — Minneapolis  Tribune. 


T 


HE     LILAC     SUNBONNET.       Sixth     edition. 
I2mo.     Cloth,  $1.50. 

"A  love  story  pure  and  simple,  one  of  the  old  fashioned,  wholesome,  sunshiny 
kind,  with  a  pure-minded,  sound-hearted  hero,  and  a  heroine  who  is  merely  a  good 
and  beautiful  woman  ;  and  if  any  other  love  story  half  so  sweet  has  been  written  this 
year,  it  has  escaped  our  notice." — New  York  Times. 

"The  general  conception  of  the  story,  the  motive  of  which  is  the  growth  of  love 
between  the  young  chief  and  heroine,  is  delineated  with  a  sweetness  and  a  freshness, 
a  naturalness  and  a  certainty,  which  places  'The  Lilac  Sunbonnet'  among  the  best 
stories  of  the  time." — New  York  Mail  and  Express. 

"  In  its  own  line  this  little  love  story  can  hardly  be  excelled.  It  is  a  pastoral,  an 
idyl — the  story  of  love  and  courtship  and  marriage  of  a  fine  young  man  and  a  lovely 
girl — no  more.  But  it  is  told  in  so  thoroughly  delightful  a  manner,  with  such  playful 
humor,  such  delicate  fancy,  such  true  and  sympathetic  feeling,  that  nothing  more  could 
be  desired." — Boston  Traveller. 


New  York :    D.  APPLETON  &  CO.,  72  Fifth  Avenue. 


THE  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY 
UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  SANTA  CRUZ 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  DATE  stamped  below. 


;  g'76 


JI\N 


MAY  30  1991 


50m-12,'70(Pl251s8)2373-3A,l 


"9 


. 


PS1449.C85L5  1896 


3  2106  00206  5784 


